


Ineffable

by Just_the_Messenger



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Abduction, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aziraphale is sweet but just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing, Demons, Desire, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Falling In Love, Gabriel is a dick, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Confessions, Lust, Mild Sexual Harrassment, Nephilim, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Other, Passion, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), References to Addiction, References to torture/threats, Sexual Tension, Sexual content but not the physical act itself, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Some Humor, Steamy Romance, Temporarily Unrequited Love, corporate heaven and hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 106,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_the_Messenger/pseuds/Just_the_Messenger
Summary: Crowley has a secret, something he can barely admit to himself: he is in love with Jenna Kingsley, an American woman who doesn't even know he exists. What happens when she befriends Aziraphale and he introduces her to his demonic best friend? Embarrassment, catatonia and profuse sweating (obviously), but also the chance for Crowley to form a real relationship with her, something he's fantasized about for three years. He also has the opportunity to know more about her, as does Jenna herself, who didn't know she could heal wounds or sense lies until interacting with angels and demons. Can Aziraphale and Crowley protect her from Heaven and Hell's curiosity, judgement and wrath upon discovering who (or rather what) she is?Set present-day, post-Apocalmost
Relationships: Crowley (Good Omens)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, thanks for reading thus far! I really hope y'all enjoy my fan fic, there's LOTS of angst, some dangerous situations but mostly humor, angst and fluff.
> 
> Preface: I know Crowley and Aziraphale are madly in love with and perfect for each other in reality. That being said, here's an AU wherein their relationship is purely platonic and Crowley falls in love with a woman. Might set Zira up with another sexy demon, we'll see 😏
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but the character Jenna Kingsley; her family, past acquaintances and roommate; Hecate and Vega. I wish with all my might it was all real. *squeezes eyes shut and wishes really hard for GO everything to exist as reality in our dimension* Ugh, that always gives me a headache, I gotta take a break now. I'll keep working on it though!  
> Enjoy!

Crowley had a secret. No, it was not the fact that he's a 6,000-year-old demon, nor that he was in fact the serpent who tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden.

It was also not his choice in best friends (a rather particular angel named Aziraphale), favorite band (Queen), how much he adored his Bentley or his strange fascination with impeccable foliage. 

No, Crowley's secret, which he could barely admit to himself, was much more dangerous, terrifying and inconceivable than anything he could have imagined (and he imagined a lot). Not even Aziraphale knew that he had been harboring this torturous burden since December 23, 2015. Well, technically, the seeds of the secret were originally planted on Tuesday, September 17, 2001, but it wasn't until 14 long years later that they blossomed into a luscious, fragrant and deadly crimson rose that Crowley kept locked inside a bulletproof safe inaccessible to all but him, and then only when he was sufficiently inebriated. 

You see, for better or worse, Crowley, one of Hell's finest fallen angels, was deeply, irrevocably and genuinely in love with a human. A woman, to be more precise, one Jenna Kingsley of San Diego, California. 

How he fell in love is a long story, with which I won't bore you, but suffice it to say that he watched her grow up and became quite fond of her compassionate, courageous and creative nature. He laughed at her wry, witty humor; protected her from harmful humans, natural disasters and general illnesses; and wrathfully punished those who bullied or hurt her, his only friend besides the angel.

And that is truly all she was to him at first: a wonderful friend who didn't know he existed but that he inexplicably liked helping and observing from a distance. It wasn't until she turned 20 that he realized, to his horror and extreme mortification, that his feelings for Jenna were no longer platonic, and completely foreign to him. 

I mean, he knew what love was; he loved Aziraphale and his Bentley. And he knew what sexual desire was, (though he had never experienced it himself), because he'd used it to tempt people constantly. Honestly, he'd grown accustomed to associating the former with contentment and the latter with amusement at human stupidity and weakness. 

But the feelings his friend now inspired in him were nothing like these. They were raw, lustful, maddening: he longed to kiss her deeply and hold her soft body against his, to fill her with his love and pleasure her however she wanted. He found himself fantasizing about these very things and much worse constantly, and it filled him with such self-hatred. How dare he even consider sullying such a precious creature with his demonic presence? 

To Crowley, Jenna was as much of an angel as any actual ones he'd ever met (and much more than some), but also the epitome of everything good about humanity: ingenuity, emotionality, passion, innovation, curiosity, etc. He couldn't bear to think of her in pain or suffering, least of all by his hand, although that was now his greatest fear: that he would somehow, after years of interfering in human affairs without a care in the world, harm the only being that he not only longed for physically but admired, respected and revered as an amalgam of the highest Archangel and a flawlessly beautiful goddess. 

Given these conflicting feelings, Crowley researched the current state of Jenna's soul in December 2015. Had his fervent lust for her inadvertently damned her to eternal flames? Had his mere presence throughout much of her life corrupted her beautiful spirit to the point it would suffer forever in the very fiery lakes that burned his once-pristine white wings to a disgusting black? 

To his enormous relief, Hell's records showed no mention of her in any way, meaning she was safe from his vile aura. Immediately, he vowed to stop visiting her, in the hopes that these insidious feelings would dissipate. 

And they may have, if he had kept his promise. But while Crowley was genuinely terrified of harming her, he also had pretty bad self-control, and thus continued to check in on his beloved ever so often, keeping his distance but pining for her pathetically. He was now not only disgusted but also quite annoyed with himself, hiding behind trees and inside thimbles while she read, worked, graduated college and did normal human things. 

What was he, some horny teenager with acne, too lame to get a life of his own? No, he corrected himself. You're much worse. You're a stalker. A pathetic, spineless stalker too bloody scared to get a life, so you keep watching this innocent person. Original sin aside, this is the single worst (worst in a bad way) thing you've ever done, Anthony J. Crowley. 

Thankfully, the impending threat of Armageddon, nannying for Warlock, discovering that he and his partner in crime (Aziraphale) had been influencing the wrong boy for 11 years and then racing against time to stop Armageddon in 2019 provided some sort of distraction from his lovesickness, although his passion for Jenna was one of his primary reasons for wanting to stop the Apocalypse. Thank G-, S-, Somebody that they managed to save the world*! 

(*Or something along those lines.....)

Two years later, Crowley was more content and relaxed than he'd been in centuries, thanks to Hell and Heaven finally getting off his and Aziraphale's respective backs. Jenna was safe and sound in sunny California, working as a teaching artist at a local children's museum and honing her craft as a writer in her spare time, completely unaware of the infamous Armageddon't. 

Everything was perfect. 

Little did he know that I had a little trick up my sleeve in the form of an all-expenses paid trip to London, specifically Soho, which Jenna would win inexplicably after not entering any contests or winning anything in her rather short life. 

Thankfully, her valid suspicions weren't nearly as powerful as her desire to travel to Europe for the first time, and on July 3, 2020, 4 months and 18 days before her 25th birthday, Jenna Kingsley boarded an international flight to begin her month-long vacation in what she considered paradise. 

Reminder: I do not play dice with the universe. I play a unique game of my own device, in which everything makes sense eventually. 

Or it doesn't. 

That's the point.

Thanks for reading, any and all comments/critiques/opinions/perspectives/etc are more than welcome!!!


	2. In which Jenna meets an angel

Jenna stood outside her hotel and breathed in the fresh London air. She had never been to Europe and planned to make the most of her two weeks stay in Soho, although probably not the way most tourists would. 

With a smile, she unpaused her music and Green Day's "Holiday" filled her ears as she wandered the streets, looking for the perfect spot to finish her poem. Ideally, she would have just finished in the park in which she began it yesterday, but it was lightly sprinkling and a bit chilly. Jenna was hoping for a quiet coffee shop or secluded pub to complete her ode to London town. 

After about 15 minutes, during which she stopped listening to Pandora so as to hear the smooth British accents she so admired, Jenna turned right and found herself in front of a lovely bookshop, A. Z. Fell & Co. Intrigued, she opened the door to find it devoid of people but full of messy stacks of various books. 

Perfect, the young woman thought as she softly strode among the piles, pausing ever so often to inspect a title or cover. After a few minutes, she found a very comfortable-looking blue armchair next to a dormant fireplace and sat down. She promptly fished out her notebook and pencil from her backpack, leaned her head against the plushy chair, closed her eyes and waited for inspiration to strike. 

Indeed it did, though not in any way she ever expected. 

"Can I help you, my dear?" said a soft male voice to her left. 

Jenna's dark blue/green eyes snapped open and her head turned to face the stranger. It was a very kind-looking man, probably late thirties/early forties, dressed in a smart white suit with blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a smile that filled her with a strange warmth. 

"Oh, no, I'm fine, thanks," she said, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry for looking so weird, I'm just trying to finish writing something and closing my eyes helps sometimes." 

"Oh, not at all, my dear," said the man nonchalantly, waving aside her apology. "You certainly didn't look weird. In fact, you appeared so peaceful that I hesitated to disturb you. However," he sighed, his smile fading as he glanced around the shop, "seeing as you've been my only customer in two weeks, I figured I'd better make a good impression and at least ask if you needed anything." He smiled apologetically. "I am sorry for disturbing you, please let me know if you need anything." 

"Oh, I'm sure I haven't been you're only customer!" Jenna replied, her brow furrowed. "This place is wonderful, it seems to have everything! I bet people come in here just to experience being near some of these rare editions," she finished, gesturing toward the heavily laden shelves. 

The man looked slightly surprised, then smiled brightly. "Why, that's very kind of you, my dear. I wish everyone felt that way about books. Oh, do forgive me," he exclaimed, extending his hand, "I haven't even introduces myself. My name is Aziraphale." 

Jenna stood up and shook his hand, which didn't grip hers too tightly like so many businessmen's did. "Aziraphale," she repeated. "What a beautiful name. Its nice to meet you, I'm Jenna." 

"The pleasure is all mine, Jenna," said Aziraphale, gazing down at the tall girl kindly. He paused as she sat back down. "If I may be so bold," he ventured tentatively, "may I ask what you are writing?"

"Oh, just a poem," said Jenna casually, glancing down at it. "I studied creative writing at college and enjoy writing poetry in my spare time. I wanted to dedicate this one to London, as it's my first time here," she continued, frowning at the lines she had written, "but I'm struggling to avoid just lauding the old standbys. The Tower, Big Ben, etc. I want to truly capture the essence of this place," she continued, gazing in frustration at a stack of Shakespeare plays in front of her, "but it's hard to not be cliche." 

Aziraphale said nothing, just gazed thoughtfully at Jenna for a few moments, which she misinterpreted as him feeling awkward at her random confession. 

"I'm so sorry," she said quickly, starting to pack up her things. "I don't know why I just bothered you with all that nonsense. I should go." Face burning like a bonfire, she stood up but Aziraphale gently held up a pale hand. 

"Please stay," he implored, softly smiling. "Its not nonsense at all, you speak very eloquently and I admire your quest. You may of course leave if you truly wish, but please don't do so on my account." 

Jenna stared at the strange man blankly, and then a brilliant smile graced her features. "Thank you, I'd love to stay." 

~

Over the next four days, Jenna spent more time at Aziraphale's bookshop than anywhere else. She and the friendly owner chatted about books, poetry, her schooling and life in America, really anything that interested them while sipping mugs of hot chamomile tea. 

While Jenna planned on spending the majority of her vacation around books rather than sightseeing, she did not plan on making a new friend, let alone one as open, validating and sweet as Aziraphale. 

"I'm so glad we met," she confessed on Friday, July 8 as they sat at his kitchen table, sipping lemonade and discussing Jane Austen. 

Aziraphale's slightly chubby porcelain cheeks turned pink as he grinned back and responded, "Oh, me as well, my dear. Things were so dreadfully full until you graced my humble shop with your lovely presence." 

Now it was Jenna's turn to blush, her tan cheeks burning red like a sunset. 

Aziraphale continued, "In fact, I don't think I'd spoken to a single person except Crowley for about two weeks until Tuesday." He looked slightly bewildered at the thought. 

Jenna smiled. "How is he doing? I hope Brazil is treating him well." 

"Oh, he's having the time of his life," Aziraphale assured her, taking a sip of his homemade lemonade. "You should be more concerned with how he's treating Brazil anyway," he added, looking suddenly a bit apprehensive. "Given our last telephone conversation, or rather lack thereof, I'm firmly convinced the wily old serpent has bled the country dry of all its alcohol." 

Jenna laughed. "Based on all the stories you've told me about him, I'm both terrified and strangely excited to finally meet him tomorrow afternoon," she said, gripping her cup tightly and staring at it nervously. 

"The excitement will vanish once you see how boring he really is," he assured her, "and, believe me, there's nothing to fear when it comes to Crowley. He puts up a tough exterior, but he's actually quite, nice, overall." The bookshop owner smiled rather slyly to himself as he sipped his beverage. The mischievous expression on his angelic face slightly surprised Jenna, but it didn't look out of place after a moment. 

The woman hesitated, biting her lip. "I'm also not a drinker myself," Jenna confessed, looking embarrassed and apologetic, "so I'm afraid I won't be very good company during the dinner. Perhaps I should just meet him and then you and he can enjoy yourselves properly alone." 

Aziraphale looked very concerned. "Oh, nonsense, Jenna! Crowley and I have literally had thousands of dinners together! Tomorrow is about introducing my old friend to my new, and we certainly don't need alcohol for that." He finished with a paternal look in his eye that left no room for debate. 

Jenna blushed again and smiled softly. "Well, I appreciate that. Its not like you two can't drink either, I'm not a recovering alcoholic or anything. I just don't care for the taste," she explained. 

Aziraphale looked a bit guilty as he hurriedly said, "No, no, it's probably best that we don't imbibe either. We have a tendency to get rather, ah, well, I suppose the word would be silly, when we overindulge." He smiled sheepishly. 

Jenna warmly grinned back. "I certainly can't imagine you silly, Zira," she assured him, finishing her lemonade. 

"Yes, let's keep it that way," he chirped, taking their glasses to clean them with a thoroughly ashamed expression on his round, cherubic face. 

Jenna giggled, which helped him to relax and laugh a bit himself at the ridiculous misadventures he and Crowley had found themselves in over the years while intoxicated. 

Hopefully, his best friend would sober up by the time he and Jenna met tomorrow at 5pm in his bookshop before dining at the Ritz.


	3. In which Jenna meets a demon

Crowley reclined in his first class seat, yawned loudly and gazed lazily out of the small window at the pink and white clouds drifting dreamily past the plane. As a rule, he detested flying, as it meant no smoking, excessive drinking or gratuitous frivolity (three of his favorite pastimes), although it did allow him to spread general malcontent and frustration in a conveniently airtight container during the course of a few hours. 

With a smirk on his angular face, he thought back to how tempting just one child to prod his sleeping baby sister led to such a catastrophic series of events that he could still hear the flight attendants grumbling about it in the back. 

Crowley sighed. This felt good. Freedom to be as mischievous and brilliant as he wanted without having Hell breathing down his neck, peer pressuring him to be evil instead of merely irksome. 

He closed his eyes, safely hidden behind his thick black sunglasses, and reviewed his last conversation with Aziraphale. The memory was quite fuzzy, as the demon had been quite drunk at the time, but he vaguely recalled the angel mentioning a new friend to whom he wanted to introduce Crowley. They were from the United States, one of the stereotypical ones (was it New York? God, he loved Central Park) and didn't drink, which meant the evening was sure to be dull. During the call, Crowley had been so astounded that there was still a human alive that didn't genuinely enjoy drinking that he just sat in the bar dumbfounded as Aziraphale babbled on about something or other. 

Crowley groaned, crossed his arms and leaned his aching head against the side of the plane. He would much rather go straight home, collapse onto his large, soft bed and try to shut down his brain instead of meeting the angel's new friend, but Aziraphale had sounded so excited over the phone that he could cancel on him. He'd just suffer through a few hours of mind numbing chitchat before retiring to his apartment, gloriously alone except for his plants. Which, he thought angrily, had better look as good or greener than before I left! 

~

It was exactly 5pm when Crowley reached Aziraphale's bookshop, parking his Bentley in front of the entrance. He sighed heavily, adjusted his sunglasses and opened the door, ready for an evening of incredibly boring and academic "fun" with two bookworms, one of whom detested alcohol. Crowley scowled as he remembered this fact about the unknown person. What kind of freak hates alcohol in this day and age? How do they loosen up and enjoy themselves?

As he pondered this, Crowley pushed the bookshop door open and breathed in the familiar scent of leather bound originals, cocoa and dust, which to him signified Aziraphale. Smiling despite his headache and exhaustion, took another deep inhale and savored the familiar feeling of the angel's presence: peace, love, gentleness, with a hint of his own mischief mixed in there after 6,000 years of friendship. 

"Angel?" Crowley drawled, sauntering toward the back room. "I'm here, are you in back?" 

"Yes! Come join us!" said the angel's voice excitedly, muffled by the door. Crowley grinned and shook his head at his friend's enthusiasm and opened the wooden door leading to Aziraphale's kitchen. 

"Crowley! How good to see you again!" exclaimed a beaming Aziraphale, getting up from the table to shake his hand. Crowley grinned warmly back, then turned his attention to the other person in the room. 

Instantly, time froze for Crowley. His headache vanished, as did his ability to feel any part of his body save his heart pounding loudly against his ribs. There, sitting at Aziraphale's dinghy wooden table, next to his disorganized spice rack and old sewing kit, was her. She. The one person who made him feel like melted jelly on asphalt when she smiled, lucky just to be able to hear her speak, to know God created someone as wonderful as her. 

That woman was currently sitting in front of him, in his best friend's kitchen, of all places. Crowley stared in shock, horror and wonder at her long, luscious brown locks cascading like a rippling river down her shoulders. Her deep, oceanic eyes were looking directly into his poisonous yellow one (thankfully hidden by thick black frames) and her full pink lips were actually smiling at him. 

Oh, her glorious smile! It lit up her gentle features and creamy skin like a sunrise. Crowley's knees wobbled slightly and he had to grip the counter for support. As he did so, she stood up and took his breath away. She wore a lovely dark blue sleeveless dress that hugged her curves and highlighted her long, shapely tan legs. Her adorable feet were clad in fetching red heels that matched the simple ruby necklace around her regal neck, the brilliant jewel resting just above her breasts. 

Crowley screwed his eyes shut and grimaced. 

Why, oh why in Heaven, Hell and Manchester's names was he being tortured like this? 

Suddenly, time unfroze and he could feel and hear once again. His body ached and throbbed painfully, as though he'd been beaten, and his headache returned full force. He could hardly stand, and the counter now supported his full weight.

"Crowley," said Aziraphale, unbeknownst to all of this and apparently unaware that time had temporarily halted for the demon, "may in present my dear friend Miss Jenna Kingsley of San Diego, California?" 

Jenna smiled, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth, and extended her hand to Crowley, saying softly, "It's very nice to meet you." 

That was the breaking point. Hearing her low, melodious voice actually address him caused Crowley's knees to give way and the throbbing in his head intensified tenfold. 

"Crowley!" he heard the angel exclaim. "What's wrong?" 

He couldn't answer. The pain was too great, he almost screamed in agony. All he could do was curl up on the floor and clutch his head like it was about to explode. 

Involuntarily, he yelled loudly as the throbbing reached its peak. He felt nauseous; for the first time in 6,000 years, he was going to vomit. Why did it have to be in front of Jenna? Why not directly on Hastur after he tried to kill him yet again? Or at least in the privacy of his own home. Could demons even vomit? Had he eaten anything today? 

As what he assumed was bile began rising in his throat, a soothing sensation began spreading from his left shoulder throughout the rest of his tortured body, gently removing his nausea and migraine. Crowley exhaled, not realizing until that point that he'd been holding his breath, and opened his eyes. 

Thank G-, Somebody his glasses were still on, because Jenna was kneeling next to him and peering apprehensively into his face. He noticed her arm was lifted up, and jolted slightly when he saw her delicate hand resting on his shoulder. 

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, rubbing his shoulder slightly with her slim fingers. Through layers of black cotton and leather, Crowley's skin burned under her touch, though not unpleasantly. 

His eyes, shielded by his sunglasses, found her gorgeous blue/green ones again and stared, falling into their intricate beauty. He tried to answer her, but his mouth wouldn't move. He felt incredibly exhausted, and all he could do was think, You're so much more beautiful in person, before he passed out on the linoleum floor.


	4. In which Crowley tells Aziraphale

"Crowley! Wake up! So help me I-I'll start complimenting your plants if you don't awaken this instance!" 

Crowley groaned and stirred, eyes closed. "Don't you dare," he growled weakly at Aziraphale as he finished waking up from his coma. He opened his eyes: he was lying on the long black leather couch in his upscale flat. Aziraphale sat on a chair near his face, looking pale and anxious. 

Crowley tried to sit up, but the angel pushed him back onto the soft leather and frowned at him. "Crowley, you've been comatose for the last 6 hours, I don't think you should get up yet." 

Crowley opened his mouth to argue, but found he was too exhausted and punchy to think of a proper comeback, so he just sank back onto the cushions. 

"Do you remember what happened?" the angel asked apprehensively, tapping his fingers together anxiously. 

Crowley groaned again. "Well, I was hoping it was just some sort of twisted nightmare, but if in fact it wasn't, then yes, Angel," he hissed, covering his exposed eyes with a clammy hand. "I vividly remember everything that occurred before I fainted like a damn Victorian girl in a harlequin romance." 

"Oh, you didn't look like that at all!" said Aziraphale a little too emphatically. "It was all very, uh, manly, and, uh, masculine, and, um...." 

He trailed off sheepishly when Crowley fixed him with a heated glare. 

After an awkward silence, Aziraphale cleared his throat and said, "Well, since you remember, care to enlighten me as to what happened?" 

Crowley's scowl turned to a guilty glance at his friend, and he mumbled quickly, "I dunno. Just got a bad headache and collapsed, I guess." 

Aziraphale frowned. "We don't get headaches." 

"Well, we would if we weren't able to sober up magically," he complained, "like I wasn't able to last night." 

Aziraphale's eyebrows flew up. "Oh? Pray tell, why not?" 

"Too many damn people around," growled the demon, turning away from the angel and facing the back of the couch. "Wouldn't let me go till I sang all 12 verses of "American Pie," by the end of which I collapsed into a drunken stupor on a particularly uncomfortable boulder. We were on the beach," he added when Aziraphale didn't respond right away. 

"Ah, that explains it. Why couldn't you just sober up once you awoke?" 

Crowley shook his head. "Not enough energy. Barely had enough time and powers left to miracle myself to the airport in a semi-respectable outfit with all the paperwork. Pretty sure my Mastercard is gone, but joke's on whoever took it, cuz it was overdrawn anyway." He snickered into the cushion, then sighed. I'm so pathetic, he thought. 

"I guess that checks out," said the angel uncertainly, "but that still doesn't explain why you collapsed, or how you were staring at Miss Kingsley-"

"I wasn't staring!" argued Crowley, turning around roughly to glare at Aziraphale. "And I collapsed because I'm fucking exhausted from the drinking and traveling. I shouldn't have agreed to come, it was a bad idea." 

Aziraphale's beautiful blue eyes looked down, and his face fell. Crowley sighed. "Look, it was a good idea," he corrected himself with what he hoped resembled a reassuring smile, "I just should have slept first. It's my fault, Angel. I'm sorry." 

Aziraphale shook his head. "I appreciate that, Crowley, but that's not it. I felt it from the moment you saw Jenna." He glanced back up at his friend. "You remember how I can sense love?" 

Crowley squirmed uncomfortably, his face burning red, and made to turn away from the angel but Aziraphale stopped him with a surprisingly strong arm. "Listen, it's ok, Crowley. I just want to know how you know each other." 

Crowley grimaced at him, like he was drinking pure lemon juice, then sighed and flipped over so that he was face-down on the sleek leather couch. After a few seconds, he lifted his head and hissed bitterly, "We don't know each other. I know her because I've been basically stalking her since she was six. She knew nothing about me until today, so she's completely innocent in this. Whatever the fuck is wrong with me is my doing, and mine alone." When he finished, his head flopped back down on the cushion. 

Aziraphale stared at his friend for what seemed to both like several eternities before finally replying, "Well, that's quite a thing to keep from your best friend." 

Crowley twisted his head and saw the hurt expression on Aziraphale's face. "Are you seriously pouting because I didn't tell you I'm obsessed with a random American girl?" said Crowley incredulously. 

"She's not just some random girl, Crowley!" retorted the angel somewhat angrily, which stunned Crowley. "She's quite a special person, and yes, I am upset that you never told me you fell in love." 

A stunned silence filled the cavernous flat as Crowley's doughy brain slowly processed what Aziraphale said. 

"Wh-" he stuttered nervously, unable to meet the angel's intense gaze, "wh-what makes you think I'm-"

"Oh for Heaven's sake, Crowley!" cried Aziraphale, standing up and throwing his arms in the air dramatically. "You know very well that angels sense all types of love, from platonic to romantic. And you, my friend," he said, pointing at the demon's terrified face accusingly, "are so romantically in love with Miss Kingsley that you can't even remain standing in her presence!" 

He glared down at the demon, who had buried his head under a pillow and begun singing, "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" as loudly and off-key as possible before Aziraphale got halfway through "romantically." 

"Crowley, stop it," complained the angel, his gaze softening as he began to pity his pathetic friend. 

"UP ABOVE THE WORLD SO HIGH--"

"CROWLEY!" 

The demon stopped singing, to their mutual relief. Aziraphale sat on the edge of the couch and took the pillow away, an action that Crowley didn't fight. The demon gingerly sat up with Aziraphale's help (he was still sore for some reason) and stared at the floor with his elbows resting on his knees, large hands clasped together tightly. 

"I can't be in love with her," he said hoarsely. "Whether I am or not, I can't be. It's not right, it's unnatural. I'm a demon, and she's.....she's a..." His voice broke, and he started to sob. 

Aziraphale stared at Crowley in alarm, never having seen him cry so profusely before. He then scolded himself for hesitating even a moment, and hugged Crowley around the shoulders. 

"Oh, God," sobbed the demon quietly. "I'm such an idiot. I never meant to fall in love," he said suddenly to the angel, his serpent eyes pleading and desperate. "You have to believe me, I never even meant to like her! She was just a cool little kid, and her family was rubbish so I helped keep her safe growing up." He sniffled and took a shaky breath as Aziraphale nodded. 

"I believe you, Crowley," said the angel softly, patting his shoulder gently and waiting for him to continue. 

Crowley let out a sigh of relief, but tensed again when he resumed speaking. "She was smart and could take care of herself for the most part, so I was gonna stop checking in on her in middle school," he explained, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve. Aziraphale made a face and miracled the snot away. 

"Thanks," said Crowley thickly. "Its just, there were these bullies, and they treated her like trash because she was different. Of course she was different; that's what was so great about her! She was taller than all the other kids, plus a helluva lot more mature and kinder. Oh, and she was a genius, which I guess to those neanderthals meant she was fair game." He was no longer crying, only boring holes into his hardwood floor with the intensity of his now crimson eyes. "I showed them what happens when they bully people." 

"Do you mean, you--" started Aziraphale, afraid of the answer. 

Crowley casually waved him off, his eyes mellow yellow once more. "Nah, they were fine. Just gave 'em some pretty gruesome nightmares and visions until they left her alone. Only took about two days." He grinned evilly. 

Aziraphale sighed. "And then what happened?" 

A somber look replaced Crowley's sneer. "Then her mum died," he said softly, hanging his head. "She wasn't a great mum, mind you, but she was at least there. And her dad wasn't awful either, but couldn't parent a teenage girl any better than a lump of rocks.

"She was alone, most of the time. It's hard to make friends when you're depressed and anxious constantly. So, I figured I'd stick around till she reached adulthood, make sure she at least stayed safe." 

Aziraphale smiled softly. "That was very kind of you." 

Crowley shook his head. "No, it was selfish. I was too attached at that point. She was like my only friend besides you, as pathetic as that sounds, and I couldn't let anything bad happen to her. 

"Anyway, she turned 18, graduated high school with honors, went away to college, etc. I kept my promise and only checked in once or twice a year." 

He paused, looking guiltily at his angelic comrade, who patiently waited for him to continue. 

Crowley took a deep breath. "On December 23, 2015, I felt something off and went to see her. She was talking to her aunt on the phone outside the dorms, looking really pale and upset. Apparently," his voice rose angrily, "her father, in a fit of inebriated impulsivity, decided to marry someone he barely knew (and whom she had never met) in Vegas two days before Christmas, without his only child present! I mean, who does that?!" 

He glowered at the floor for another minute before continuing, "Anyway, she pretended it was fine on the phone, but once she hung up she....burst into tears." Crowley closed his eyes and looked away. Aziraphale hadnt seen him this emotional since the Apocalmost. 

"Anyway," continued the demon after a moment, sniffling slightly, "there she was, crying in the middle of a deserted courtyard, all alone. I think her friends went home, but she had work nearby the university so she just stayed on campus until Christmas Eve. I, uh" he faltered, scratching the back of his head and licking his lips nervously, "I'd never done this before, obviously, but seeing as there was no one else around, I, um, kind of, went up to her and asked if she was alright. She just looked up at me with these huge blue eyes and said, "Yeah, I'm fine," but she was still crying so hard she couldn't even stand up. So I asked if I could sit by her, and she said yes." 

Aziraphale waited with bated breath for his friend to continue. "And-?" he prompted, unable to stop himself. 

"And she just sat and cried. I didn't know what the fuck to say, so I just sat there like an idiot, but slowly her crying gets softer, until she's just sniffling. I start babbling about random stuff to keep her from crying again, and it works. She even laughs a bit. God, she has the greatest laugh," he said softly to himself, smiling slightly. He looked back at the angel, cleared his throat and continued, "Anyway, after a bit she checks the time and it's like 11pm, so she says she has to go. I say goodbye and start to leave, but she hugs me. She actually hugged me," Crowley repeated, still stunned after all these years. "I just froze, so she laughed again and thanked me. Before she turned around to go, she smiled at me. Not a fake, awkward, impersonal smile, either," he whispered. "It lit up the whole courtyard." 

There was short pause, during which Aziraphale marveled at the demon's shocking tact, before Crowley sighed, "And that's when I knew." 

"Knew what?" said the confused angel. 

Crowley shifted guiltily and softly answered, "That I loved her. More than friends. That she was no longer just a friend or someone to protect, but a being that I wanted to share eternity with." 

Both supernatural entities sat as still and quiet as statues as the magnanimity of the current situation gently washed over both like a tidal wave. It wasn't until the sky outside began to lighten to a purplish pink that they again spoke.

"May I ask a question?" said Aziraphale. Crowley nodded. 

"Why haven't you told her?" 

Crowley stared, dumbstruck, at the angel. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," he hissed, leaving the couch and striding to the bathroom. 

"But Crowley," continued Aziraphale, following the demon. "I can tell you genuinely care for her, it's a pure love! There's no reason why you can't-"

"No, Aziraphale!" yelled Crowley, gripping the sides of his sink and glaring at the angel. "There's no reason you can't, but there's an infinite number of reasons why I can't, and they all add up to the same thing." He turned and stared at his reflection in disgust. "I am a deadly, dangerous and heartless demonic entity, created to harm and corrupt innocent human souls. I'm no more capable of "pure love" than you are of true malice!" 

Before Aziraphale could reply, Crowley stormed out of the bathroom and sat at his table, gripping his hands together so tightly they turned white. 

"Oh, so I just can't sense love correctly then?" argued the angel, sitting in the opposite chair. 

"I didn't say that!" Crowley shot back. "I said it's not possible!" 

"Same difference, Crowley." 

"You need to watch yourself, Angel," the demon warned in a low, serious voice, pointing a finger at Aziraphale. "If you don't drop this and wipe her memory from ever having met me-"

"What?!" exclaimed Aziraphale. 

"-then you and I are through! No more "our side," no more "our" anything! Do you understand?!" Crowley was almost yelling now, but his eyes were no longer angry. They were desperate, pitiful, begging the angel to help him protect his beloved. 

Aziraphale stared into those eyes, and slowly nodded. "I will do as you ask," he said softly. 

Crowley closed his eyes and collapsed onto the table. "Thank you, angel," he whispered. Aziraphale wanted to hug him again, but before he could decide if doing do would result in serious bodily harm or not there was a soft knock at the door. 

Crowley's head shot up. "Who's that?" he asked the angel. 

"Seeing as it's not my flat, I have no idea," said Aziraphale somewhat sarcastically, but Crowley didn't seem to notice. 

"It feels like something...familiar," he mumbled curiously, staring dumbfounded at his friend as someone knocked again. 

"Well, I'll answer it," said the angel, "seeing as you're a bit of a mess." 

Crowley made a face behind Aziraphale's back as he watched him approach the door and look through the peephole. 

"Oh my dear God," he explained, quickly unlatching the chains that now bolted the demon's door shut after certain break-ins around the Apocalmost. 

"Who is it?" demanded Crowley, now rather annoyed at all the drama. 

"It's Miss Kingsley," he said, flipping the last lock before turning the doorknob, "and she's crying."


	5. In which Jenna is in danger

"Jenna? What d'you--no you bastard, don't open the door!" hissed a very frazzled Crowley. 

Aziraphale, ignoring his friend completely, did open the door to reveal Jenna Kingsley, with tears running freely down her flushed cheeks. 

"Oh, my God," exclaimed the angel, ushering her inside. "My dear, what happened?" 

Crowley, who had miracled another pair of sunglasses on before shutting his eyes determinedly, raised his hand to transport himself somewhere very far away, but stopped when he heard Jenna sob, "I'm so sorry to bother you, Zira, but I didn't know where else to go!" 

Crowley turned and gasped. Jenna, who had looked so happy and radiant only hours before, was sobbing uncontrollably into Aziraphale's chest as he held her close. Her beautiful blue dress was torn and soiled in several places, her hair was messy and slightly damp and she wore no shoes. His eyes widened in shock and horror when he next saw the angry red scratches on her lower legs and arms, some bleeding slightly. 

Before Crowley could stop himself, he had quickly walked over to Jenna and said urgently, "What happened?!"

She turned, and her puffy eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, Crowley!" Jenna exclaimed, releasing Aziraphale and roughly wiping her tears away. "I'm so glad you're feeling better! I'm so sorry to bother you at your apartment, I mean flat, but Zira gave me your address after he took you away in case I needed to reach him," she explained thickly, looking embarrassed. 

Crowley waved aside her words. "That's fine," he said impatiently. "Can you just tell me what happened?"

Her lower lip trembled as tears began to spill out of her blue/green eyes once again. Aziraphale gently guided her to the couch, sat her down and, behind her back, miracled some tissues and a large plushy pillow for her. 

"Oh, thank you so much," she gushed, wiping her eyes. "I really wouldn't have come if it wasn't-- I mean, I just didn't know where to go after those men-"

"Those men?" repeated Crowley in a dangerously low hiss. "What do you mean, those men?!" 

"Crowley," warned Aziraphale as Jenna stared at him in shock. The demon, who had begun shaking slightly with fury, glared at the angel momentarily before perching himself on the edge of his suede armchair and taking a few deep breaths. 

"I'm sorry," said Crowley, unable to look at Jenna but hoping she heard him. "Please continue, I won't interrupt again." He was still shaking a bit, but his demeanor was much calmer. 

"No, you're fine," Jenna reassured him, her nurturing voice nearly causing him to wince. "I appreciate your concern, especially for someone you don't know." 

Crowley glanced up, and saw her give him a lovely watery smile. 

"Crowley is just a very caring person," explained Aziraphale tactfully, although the demon would have to admonish him later for using the C word. "Please, my dear, continue speaking whenever you are ready." 

Jenna blew her nose, took a deep, shaky breath and sighed. "Well," she explained thickly, nervously glancing out the window, "after I left you two at the shop, I started walking back to my hotel. It was dark, but there were lots of people around, even women with young children! At least, until I got to the underpass," she sniffled, "then it was like everyone disappeared! I was just getting ready to call a friend, just to ease my nerves even though I was only a few minutes away from the hotel, when someone grabbed me and covered my mouth with their hand." 

Crowley's hands were balled into fists so tight that his fingernails had drawn blood, but he didn't care. He stared unblinking at Jenna as she continued. 

"I tried to fight back, you know, kicking and screaming, but I literally couldn't. It was like my limbs suddenly weighed a ton and I lost my voice. They dragged me down an alley, then released me. I was trapped between a brick wall and five creeps." 

Aziraphale bit his lip, knowing where this was leading and just praying Crowley could control his wrath until after they had sufficiently comforted Jenna. 

"When I turned around, I saw how weird they all looked. Like, not quite human, I mean." 

At this unexpected information, the angel and demon looked at each other over her head. 

"What did they look like?" asked the angel softly.

She sniffled. "Well, it was just little things, you know? They wore three-piece business suits torn and covered in dust and what smelled like fresh soil. Some had animals on their heads, like toads or chameleons, and their eyes seemed....weird. Almost completely black, like they were wearing contacts." 

Crowley jumped up again, swore violently and ran his hand threw his long hair. 

"What is it?" asked Jenna. "What's going on?" She turned to Aziraphale, who seemed lost in thought as he frowned at the floor. 

Instead of answering, Crowley sat down again and said softly yet urgently, "Was there a leader? What did he look like?" 

Jenna thought for a moment before replying, "The first man who spoke seemed to be in charge, although I have no idea if he was. He had very pale skin, like a corpse, and emotionless black eyes." She shuddered. 

"Was he smoking?" asked Aziraphale anxiously. 

Jenna turned to him, surprised. "Yes, he was! A cigar, he kept blowing smoke in my face. How did you know?" 

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a dark look before the angel said, "It's a long story. What else happened, my dear?" 

"See, that's the weirdest part," she said, sinking back into the couch and crossing her legs. "The cigar man started asking me about you." Jenna nodded toward Crowley, who blanched. 

"Oh sweet mother of God," he hissed, running his fingers through his fiery licks again. 

"Don't drag Her into this," admonished Aziraphale. "Just let Jenna keep talking." 

"Um," she continued, slightly stunned at Crowley's reaction but determined to get the story over with, "obviously I said I didn't know anything about you, that we'd just met, you know. He got angry and grabbed my arm, but he sort of yelled in pain when he touched my skin and jerked his hand away." She paused, frowning. "He said I burned him." 

Jenna stared confusedly at the floor for a minute, then continued, "I guess they thought they couldn't touch me or something. I mean, I didn't feel any pain, so I think he may have been delusional. Anyway, they kept asking me where you were, and something about surviving water, but I just said I knew nothing and to let me go." 

Jenna clenched her jaw and gulped before continuing. "They didn't like that either. The others seemed slow, but the cigar man quickly realized that they could hurt me with weapons without burning themselves. That's how I got these scratches and cuts." 

"Oh my dear child," Aziraphale exhaled, hugging her close. 

"Did they-" croaked Crowley, unable to stop himself any longer. 

"No," said Jenna, grimacing. "They didn't do anything like that. The men used long forks and knives to cut my lower legs, arms and I guess once here," she pointed to the laceration on her collarbone, "but nothing else. It was all very quick, very methodical, quick slashes until I collapsed." She clenched her jaw. 

"After I fell, I heard, them talking about taking me away, and how to do that without burning themselves. I looked up and saw a Raid can that I prayed wasn't empty." 

Aziraphale smiled slightly. "I bet it wasn't." 

"It sure felt like it when I picked it up, but so much came out when I sprayed it at the men. They all freaked out, screaming like banshees in the chemical haze, so I took off my heels and ran. I somehow made it passed them, but heard the cigar man shout, "You tell Crawly it's only the beginning," whatever that means.

"When I thought I was safe, I reached in my purse for my phone, to call the police, but it was gone. I must have left it in the alley. However, I still had your address," she gestured to Crowley, who was staring stony-faced at the carpet, "and Zira said he'd be there till 9am, so I just came here. Im sorry again," she added, glancing from one to the other apologetically. 

Aziraphale patted her shoulder, but didn't smile. "Please stop apologizing, Miss Kingsley. You did the right thing by coming here. If you hadn't, I--well, I don't like to think what would have-"

"Can I talk to you in the back room?" said Crowley abruptly to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale blinked. "Well, now isn't a great--"

"You misunderstood me," interrupted the demon, slowly rising to his full 6'7 height. "You, me, back room. NOW." 

He grabbed the angel's arm, dragging him away as he cried, "We'll be right back, my dear. Please don't fret!" 

Jenna watched the two friends disappear into the flat, wondering if she was going insane. 

"What was that for?" complained the angel, rubbing his sore arm once they were safely tucked away in one of Crowley's many spare rooms. 

"This is why I can't be near her!" Crowley hissed, his face and index finger inches away from Aziraphale's sweaty face. "This is precisely the reason why! Hastur thinks he can get to me through her, and now she's basically a goner. Thanks ever so much for introducing us, buddy!" 

Aziraphale frowned. "This is hardly my fault!" he whispered. "I'm not the one who fell in love with a human!" 

"Why, you--" Crowley attacked the angel, trying to punch every bit of him he could reach.

Aziraphale, who was feeling a bit aggressive himself, ripped off his glasses and tried to bite the demon's arm, which was currently wrapped around his neck. 

"Take it back!" growled the demon. "Take it back, you bastard!" 

"Never!" choked the angel, his face turning purple. 

"Um, guys?" 

Crowley and Aziraphale froze. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but is everything okay in there? I heard a crash." 

The entities glared at each other once more before releasing their holds and miracling their appearances back to normal. 

"Of course, dear," said Aziraphale in a shockingly placid tone. "A lamp just fell. We'll be right out!" 

"Oh, okay! Sorry!" 

The angel and demon stood in silence for a full 45 seconds before the former finally apologized. 

"I am sorry," he said softly yet earnestly. "That was a low blow. I'm just upset and scared for Jenna." 

Crowley waved away his apology and collapsed on the bed. "Its fine. You're right, anyway. It is all my fault." 

Before Aziraphale could contradict him, Jenna opened the door, softly closed it behind her, locked it and ran to the other side, terror in her dark eyes. 

"Jenna?" said the angel. "What-"

"They're back," she whispered. "I heard them mumbling outside the door. When it started to open, I ran like hell back here. They're in the flat," she finished breathlessly. 

Crowley stood up almost inhumanly quickly and strode to the door. He pressed his ear against the wood and listened intently for a few moments, then turned around. 

"Right," he hissed, trying and failing to sound confident. "Here's what we're gonna do. Angel, take her somewhere far from here immediately. I'll deal with Hastur." 

"Hastur?" whispered Jenna. 

"No, Crowley. You're strong, but no one can fight off five demons on their own," implored Aziraphale. 

"Demons?" hissed Jenna, staring at her friend in shock. 

"Just go Aziraphale! I need her safe." Crowley glanced at Jenna before facing the doorway. 

"Oh, screw this!" Aziraphale leapt forward, grabbed Crowley by the hand and gently offered his arm to Jenna, who took it. 

"I suggest you hold on tightly, my dear," advised Aziraphale seriously as Crowley struggled against the angel's surprising strength. 

"Hold on?" she asked. "What are we-"

Before she could answer, the door burst open just as Aziraphale snapped his fingers and everything went immediately black.


	6. In which things Crowley explains things poorly

"Is she okay? She's still breathing, right? Make sure she's breathing!" 

"Of course she's breathing, you idiot! Can't you feel that she's alive? Besides, I checked her pulse five seconds ago." 

"I can't trust any of my instincts anymore! How in the HELL did I not know that Hastur and four of his cronies snuck into my flat until it was too late?! Or that she was in trouble?! HOW THE FUCK DIDN'T I KNOW THAT SHE WAS BEING ATTACKED BY HELL'S WORST DEMONS?!" 

"Crowley, shhhh! You'll wake her up!" 

Jenna groaned and slowly opened her eyes. She was laying on something soft, staring up at a white ceiling. Upon closer inspection, she was on a wide ivory couch facing a pair of elegant French doors that opened onto a sunny balcony overlooking a bustling city. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up, stretching her long arms and cracking her knuckles out of habit. 

"Wait, what?" She stared at her arms and legs. "What the hell happened to the scratches...?" Her skin looked as smooth and intact as it did before she was attacked. 

She heard male voices from the other room again, although much quieter than a minute ago. 

"Fine, fine! You go out, I'll keep an eye on things! Geez!" The door opened and Crowley swaggered out, brushing back his long hair and heading for the balcony. Jenna watched him step outside, look around carefully and shut the doors with a soft click. He turned around and froze when he saw Jenna sitting up." 

"Oh," he mumbled. "Sorry, I thought you were still....uh...not awake." He spoke haltingly and tentatively, as if choosing his words carefully. 

"No, it's fine," said Jenna, shaking her head. "I just woke up like a minute ago, so you were almost right." She smiled shyly, not sure what else to do. 

Crowley laughed weakly, then cleared his throat and looked away. "Uh, Ang-Aziraphale had to step out for a moment," he said in a rather high pitched tone, gesturing vaguely at the windows. "He'll be back in a bit, he's just, uh, looking for......something," he finished lamely. 

"Oh, okay," said Jenna. "Thanks. Um, I hate that I need to ask this, but, among other things, where are we?"

"Oh right!" exclaimed Crowley, slapping his forehead with his hand. "Sorry, I'm such a wanker! Yes, we are in Aziraphale's, um, flat." He bit his lip and fiddled with his tie. 

Jenna stared at his face, still largely obscured by those stupid sunglasses. How was she supposed to infer what he was thinking or feeling if she couldn't see his eyes? 

"I thought Zira lived above his bookshop," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. 

Crowley audibly gulped. "Ah yes, well, he does, most of the time. This is his, uh, other....flat..." 

"Where are we, Crowley?" she repeated firmly. 

Crowley looked at Jenna with the same odd expression as before, after he told Zira to take Jenna and run. "Well, technically," he said, "we are at one of Aziraphale's flats, in Switzerland specifically, but it's completely safe and actually quite comfortable, according to Aziraphale." He mumbled the bit about Switzerland and rushed through the rest.

Jenna blinked. "Switzerland," she deadpanned. 

Crowley gulped nervously again. "Yep," he said after a pause, trying and failing to sound light-hearted. "Angel said you'd never been, so he figured you'd enjoy-" 

"What time is it?" Jenna interrupted him. 

Crowley blinked. "I'm sorry, what?" 

"What time is it," she repeated, starting to feel irritated. 

"It's, um," he glanced around frantically, "I don't actually--"

"It's 7:02am," she said, pointing to a clock to his left without looking away from his face. 

"Ah. So it is," he said weakly, staring at the small clock. "That's a strange-"

"I arrived at Zira's flat around 5:30am," Jenna interrupted again. "and those men didn't break in until about 6:15. Meaning that we somehow got passed them, down to a car or other form of transportation and made it from London, which is on what I believe is an island, to Switzerland." She paused as Crowley squirmed in his seat. "I know I'm just a stupid American, or whatever--" 

"Oh, don't say that, you're not-"

"--but I know that it takes a little more than 47 minutes to travel from inside a Soho flat to a Swiss penthouse," she finished, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair. 

The two stared at each other, her with annoyance and him with fear. "I don't mean to be rude," Jenna added, "but I've had a pretty rough last 12 hours, so if you could just tell me what the hell is going on, I would very much appreciate it." 

Neither of them said anything for a full minute (Jenna timed it). Crowley just stared at Jenna with what appeared to be an uncomfortable expression while Jenna bore wholes into his glasses, trying to melt them off with sheer willpower. 

"Um," croaked Crowley after an additional 20 seconds of silence, "We should really wait for Aziraphale--"

"Can you please just tell me what's going on?" she implored, her gaze softening as her oceanic eyes filled with tears. "I'm really scared, and I don't know how much more I can take." 

She closed her eyes and felt the tears run down her face. Covering her face with her hands, Jenna sniffled and cried quietly, wishing she had never left home. 

She suddenly felt the cushions to her left give way a bit. Looking up, she saw Crowley sitting next to her, only about a foot away, his brow furrowed. 

"I'm so sorry, Jenna," he said softly, deep ridges in his brow as he watched her weep. Crowley then looked away and sighed heavily. "I never wanted you to know about any of this, but that's all buggered now, so," he took a deep breath, "here we go, I guess." 

He looked back at Jenna, bit his lip, and sighed. "Do you believe in angels and demons?"

Jenna blinked, but still considered his odd question before responding, "I believe in angels, but I've never really believed in Hell. So, no, I guess I don't believe in demons." 

For some reason, he smiled slightly. "I didn't know you didn't believe in Hell," he said, sounding surprised. 

"Well, yeah, but don't you not know most things about me? I mean, we're like strangers, right?" Jenna was starting to worry about Crowley's grip on reality. 

His smile instantly vanished as he adamantly reassured her that, yes, they were strangers and, of course, he knew almost nothing about her. "I just meant that I've never met anyone who believed in one but not the other," he explained feverishly, now sweating slightly so that his forehead and palms glistened. "One being Heaven and the other being Hell, I mean. Sorry, that was stupid, forget I said it." 

There was yet another awkward pause, then he continued, "What if I told you that Aziraphale was an angel?"

Jenna raised one eyebrow. "Like a real angel?" 

"Yes."

"Wings, halo, harp, the whole thing?"

"Wings yes, halo sometimes, harp no, but other than that, yes," Crowley clarified. "He is a Principality, or was rather, but he'll explain all that himself. The point is that we are both otherworldly beings, meaning Earth's laws of physics don't apply to us. We can time travel, stop time, shrink, grow, travel through phone lines--really anything we want." 

Jenna's eyes widened. "Really?" 

He smiled again. "Really," he confirmed. "That's how we got here: Aziraphale (I usually call him "Angel" cause that's kind of a mouthful) miracled us hereby snapping his fingers." 

"Wow," the young woman breathed. She glimpsed her legs and asked, "Did he remove the scratches as well?" 

Crowley nodded solemnly, glancing at her legs but looking away quickly, blushing slightly. 

"Wow," she repeated, leaning back into the couch. Jenna turned her head to him. "Are you an angel too?" 

Crowley squirmed and twiddled his fingers again. "Um, not exactly," he mumbled after a bit.

"Oh," she said. "May I ask what type of otherworldly being you are? Unless that's considered rude of course," she added quickly, "in which case I apologize." 

Crowley snorted softly and smiled. "No, it's not rude," he said, looking at her once again with that queer expression. "I'm a, um, well, a demon." 

Jenna blinked. "A demon?" she repeated curiously. 

Crowley nodded, staring at his black boots. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for her to withdraw in horror and disgust.

"So that means that Hell is real," she continued, "and Heaven too, I guess. So that's nice at least. Is Purgatory real as well?" 

Crowley's eyes shot open and he stared at Jenna in amazement. "Hang on," he said, holding up a hand. "I just told you I'm a demon." 

"Yes, you did," Jenna confirmed patiently. 

Crowley sighed. "Well, aren't you upset? Scared? Even just a little disturbed by that not so insignificant fact?"

Jenna thought about it, then said, "No, not really. I mean, you've been very kind so far, and your best friend is a truly angelic angel, so I'm not too disturbed." She paused. "I'm curious as to what it means to be a demon, but other than that, I'm pretty good." She smiled at his bemused expression. 

"Um," was all he could think to say before Jenna began asking myriad questions regarding demons. How long had he been one? What does a demon's job entails, exactly? Did he enjoy working for Hell? Why not? When did he meet Zira? How old was he? Had he met Satan personally? God? Jesus? What were they like? What was Hell like? Didn't Hell mind his celestial relationship with Zira? 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, holding up his hands to interrupt her. "These are all.....actually pretty insightful questions.....but the only thing that matters right now is this." Crowley took a deep breath. "I used to work for Lucifer. Satan, the Devil, Prince of Lies, whatever. I don't anymore because Angel and I...um.....foiled something they'd been looking forward to for a bit. Heaven too, so Angel's on the outs as well. 

"Anyway, when headquarters realized I was a traitor, they sent two pretty nasty demons, Hastur and Ligur, to discorp--er, kill me, sort of. Lucky me, I had some holy water on hand and managed to destroy Ligur and temporarily trap Hastur in my--somewhere. 

"Long story short, Heaven and Hell's plans are ruined, and Angel and I are convicted of treason and other pretty bad offenses, meaning they're gonna destroy us too. With a little help from an ancient prophecy, Angel got the brilliant idea that we switch bodies prior to this so that, given the chance that our superiors choose to eviscerate rather than merely torture us, we won't die. Ergo, I stepped into Hellfire disguised as Aziraphale, and he climbed into a tub of holy water looking like me. Since I was him and he was me, both of us survived. Makes sense?"

"I think so," said Jenna, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Fast forward to today," continued Crowley, his voice starting to get a bit shaky, "Hastur and his henchmen are still trying to get back at me for killing Ligur and discover how I survived the holy water. I've been able to avoid them for 2 years, but they think they've found a weak spot in my armor." He squirmed again, looking extremely uncomfortable. 

"Oh?" said Jenna when he didn't continue. "What do they think it is?"

"Well," he said, with the air of explaining something so clearly ludicrous and outlandish to a co-worker that it was hardly worth mentioning at all, "it appears that the idiots think that you and I are friends. Which is really quite stupid," he added hastily when she frowned. "I mean, we just met yesterday, for G-, crying out loud," he finished rather lamely. "But Hastur and his cronies are notoriously daft; they probably just sensed that you were friends with Angel and made the leap that we must know each other, as well." 

"Okay....." 

"Plus, they're really quite desperate at this point," he added. "I don't care about anything except my car, my plants and Aziraphale, and they've already found they can't mess with those without me or Angel screwing them over pretty good." He licked his lips nervously. "They just sensed that our energies were in the same room and drew their own delusional conclusions." 

Jenna sat silently, processing what he said. Something about it didn't sit right in her stomach, but she didn't know what. 

"So," she said finally, "they think that by hurting me they can get to you." 

Crowley didn't answer, just bit his lip and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. 

Jenna just nodded. She didn't know what else to do. Crowley buried his face in his hands and groaned, "I'm so sorry. I never wanted this to happen." 

"It's not your fault," jenna assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He twitched slightly at the touch, but didn't draw back. "How could you know this would happen? Its just a random coincidence." 

Crowley shook his head. "Trust me, this is 110% all my fault," he said in a low, angry voice, glaring despondently at the floor. She removed her hand, feeling rather useless.

The two sat in silence until Jenna suddenly remember something. "Hang on, why couldn't they touch me?" she asked, frowning and tilting her head at him. 

Crowley turned toward her. "The demons?" 

"Yeah. The cigar guy--Hastur, I guess--kept saying I burned him. Is that true?"

Crowley bit his lip again. "It probably is," he admitted, "otherwise he never would have confessed to a human hurting him. We don't know how that's possible, but that's what Angel's doing right now, actually--looking for answers as to why and how you defended yourself against them like that." He smiled slightly at her. "Although whatever the reason, I'm very glad you did." 

Jenna blushed and looked away, as did Crowley, who also stood up to inspect a picture frame on the opposite wall with apparent fascination. 

The woman cleared her throat. "Okay, fair enough," she reasoned. "Thank you for telling me everything." He nodded, no longer smiling and still picking at the corner of the frame absent-mindedly. 

As they let another wave of severe awkwardness wash over them, Jenna's stomach growled loudly and painfully. She clutched it, feeling embarrassed. Crowley looked at her in alarm. 

"Oh, you must be starving," he said, clearing off a small table. "I'm such an idiot, I should have had food ready for you when you woke up. Stupid," he muttered under his breath as he removed books from the table and brushed it clean with his hands. 

"Crowley, you are fine," said Jenna emphatically, standing and holding up her hands. "Really, I just realized I'm a bit hungry. I'll just have some fruit, or--"

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the demon, reminding her of Zira for a second. "I can get you anything, what would you like?" He was sweating again and sounded quite anxious. 

"Um....." Jenna didn't know what to say. She was starving, but didn't want to put him out. "I mean, I guess some yogurt would be--"

"What brand?" he asked eagerly. 

"Uh, I don't know what they have in Switzerland--"

"Oh, don't worry about that," he shook his head and grinned, which made her feel even more confused. "If you just tell me the brand and flavor--"

"Uh, well, I love Yoplait's mixed berry--"

Crowley snapped his fingers. Several huge quarts of this very type of yogurt appeared on the small table, as did an obscene amount of granola, nuts and assortment of fruit, from grapes to bananas. He snapped again, and a crystal bowl, silver spoon and creamy linen napkin materialized at the head of the table, near a wooden chair. 

Jenna's jaw dropped, her wide eyes flickering between the table and Crowley. 

"What's wrong?" asked the demon, concern etched in his brow. "Is it the wrong flavor, or--?"

"Uh," croaked Jenna, forcing herself to speak. "No! No, everything is great! Its just, well, not that I didn't believe you, but, um, I've never seen anything like....this," she gestured at the scene before her incredulously, "before. Outside of movies, of course." 

Crowley laughed. It was the first time she'd heard him laugh freely, and the sound made her smile. Until this point, she truly did NOT believe in demons, but if she had, she would have imagined their laughs to be evil cackles, sinister chuckles, maniacal jeers. Not the warm, spontaneous, infectious sound that Crowley was now making. It made her smile. 

"Yeah," he said, putting his hands on his hips and surveying the table, still laughing slightly. "I guess it's hard to believe till you see a miracle for yourself." 

Jenna's brow furrowed. "A miracle?" she repeated, tilting her head at Crowley. 

"Oh yeah, that's just what we call the little things we do," he explained, gesturing with his hands. "Whenever an angel or demon wants to change something, they just snap their fingers and, poof! It's changed. I know "miracle" means something more, um, substantial to humans," he added, "like saving lives, reversing natural disasters and all that. We do those as well, but rarely. Most often, it's just little miracles. Like this." He snapped again, and a small bouquet of tiny red roses appeared in her hands. 

"Wow," she whispered, blushing and inhaling the fragrant blooms. "Thank you," she said, glancing up at him in admiration. "It's such beautiful magic." 

Crowley blushed again, pink slowly spreading across his angular cheekbones as he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. 

"But wait," said Jenna, frowning again. "I thought only angels could do miracles." 

Crowley stopped scratching his head and smiled at her mischievously. "Common misconception," he said, gesturing for her to tuck into the miraculous breakfast. 

"Angels and demons are much more similar than you'd think," he continued as she spooned rich purple yogurt, granola and nuts into the crystal bowl with the delicate silver spoon. "We certainly don't specialize in the same things, but we have the same basic potential. For instance," he added, watching her sit down and gently pluck some grapes off the vine, "both of us can not only perform miracles, but possess people as well." 

Jenna nearly choked on her grapes. Coughing, she rasped, "Did you say 'possess?'"

"Yep," confirmed a smirking Crowley, sitting on the other side of the small table and crossing his long legs casually. He seemed much more comfortable now, even amused. "Angel found that out the hard way when he was unexpectedly discorporated and Heaven wouldn't give him another body." 

Jenna stared at him unblinkingly, which caused him to laugh again. "Sorry, let me start over..." 

Over the next 30 minutes or so, Crowley explained to Jenna while she ate how angels and demons often discorporate, or lose their human bodies to death, and have to request new ones from their respective offices. He then detailed how Aziraphale had bravely defied his Heavenly supervisors and possessed an middle-aged woman's body in the hopes that he could reconnect with Crowley and "finish screwing over Heaven and Hell's Great Plan" two years ago, right before their unsuccessful execution and victorious escape to Earth.

"That's crazy," she said, leaning her arms on the table and smiling at the demon. "I can't believe he did that!" 

"Well, Angel's got a lot more moxy than most people give him credit for," explained Crowley. "Did you get enough food?" he asked, anxiously peering into her face. 

"Oh yes, thank you. I'm stuffed," she assured him, pushing her empty bowl away. She then looked at him quizzically. "Aren't you going to eat anything?"

Crowley smiled mischievously again. "Nah, I'm fine," he waved his hand. "Demons and angels don't need to eat, not that that's ever stopped Aziraphale," he added under his breath, rolling his eyes. 

Jenna giggled. "Yes, he seems to eat pretty frequently," she agreed. 

"Oh, believe me, you have no idea," assured Crowley, gesturing with his hand. "Remind me to tell you about the time he nearly got himself decapitated over some French crepes." 

"Oh, I will," said Jenna emphatically, smiling back at Crowley. She felt so much more comfortable around him now, almost like she's known him forever. He gazed at her with that same odd expression she couldn't quite identify, then blushed and looked down. 

The awkwardness returned as neither spoke for a few minutes. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Jenna asked, "Do you ever eat?" 

Crowley looked back up at her. "Not really," he admitted, shaking his head and scrunching his face in distaste like he'd just swallowed something slimy. "I mean, Angel's always forcing me to try things, but eating just doesn't appeal to me." 

Jenna nodded, then remembered something and grinned widely. "Oh, of course," she simpered. "How could I forget? You prefer something a little stronger, don't you?"

Crowley stared at her in alarm, then relaxed slightly when she giggled. "Yeah, I guess I do," he confessed, looking almost....shy? Embarrassed? Ashamed? Why did he care if she knew he drank? 

She cleared her throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"No! No, you're fine, I just--"

"Um--"

Back to awkward silence. Then: 

"I think it's great that you don't drink," he said suddenly, looking sideways at her. "I mean, especially considering your parents and everything." 

Jenna whipped her head around and stared at him, bewildered. "What do you mean, 'my parents?' How did you know--?"

Before Crowley could answer, Aziraphale burst through the door, waving an old, dilapidated book in his hands. "I found it!" he announced to Crowley and Jenna. "I know what's going on!" 


	7. In which Aziraphale explains things poorly

Aziraphale stood triumphantly in front of his friends, one hand on his hip and the other holding up the book like a superhero in a trenchcoat, but his bright smile fell when he sensed the tension between Crowley and Jenna. They were staring at him with confused looks on their very different faces, but Crowley's lanky form was stiff and awkwardly turned away from the woman, while she was leaning toward him slightly in her chair, as though waiting for him to say or do something. 

"Am I..... interrupting something?" asked the angel tentatively, glancing from the demon to Jenna. 

"What? Of course not!" exclaimed Crowley, moving behind Aziraphale to close the door. "We were just.....what the hell do you mean, you know what's going on, Angel?" he growled, annoyed and avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Oh, right," said Aziraphale, turning his attention to Jenna. "Hello, my dear Jenna," he said warmly, taking her hand in his. "I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now," he continued, searching her eyes for signs of trauma or repressed distress. 

Jenna gripped his hand and smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine, Zira," she emphasized. "Crowley told me everything, including how you healed my scratches." She looked at him intently. "Thank you, angel." 

Aziraphale sniffled and brushed a tear out of his eye, waving aside her thanks and trying not to get too emotional. "Oh, it was absolutely nothing, my dear. I'm just glad you're looking and, perhaps, feeling better?" He raised his eyebrows hopefully. 

"Oh yes, much better," Jenna assured him. 

"Good," exhaled the angel, squeezing her hands affectionately before releasing them. He paused, frowning slightly.

"Wait a second," he said suspiciously, turning to Crowley. "What do you mean, Crowley told you everything?" 

"Don't get your wings in a tizzy, I gave her the Reader's Digest version," drawled the demon, rolling his eyes. "You know, 'You're an angel, I'm not, she's in danger, etc.'" He paused, and snickered at Aziraphale's distressed expression. "Don't worry, angel. I saved the best parts for you." He glanced inscrutably at Jenna before sitting down and crossing his long limbs. 

"Oh," said Aziraphale. "Well, I suppose that's alright." He sat down on a stool, holding the book in his hands and frowning. 

"Did you tell her about the garden?" he blurted, his bright blue eyes anxiously looking into Crowley's smirking face.

"Nope," answered the demon immediately, like he was waiting for the question. "Nor did I tell her about the You-Know-What, or much about your lot at all. I did mention that you're a Principality," he confessed, holding up a finger and tilting his head thoughtfully, "but I couldn't remember what the hell that meant, so you're all good." He grinned broadly at the angel and glanced once at Jenna, but quickly looked away and stopped smiling upon seeing her expression. 

"Oh," repeated Aziraphale, his stiff posture relaxing a bit. "Well, that's all right then." He beamed at his friends like an adorable golden retriever. 

"Excuse me," interjected Jenna, holding up a hand. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what the he--eck," she corrected herself, glancing at Aziraphale, "are you two talking about?" 

"Oh, please forgive us, my dear," implored the angel, his smile replaced by a thoroughly concerned expression. "I'll explain everything shortly, I can't imagine how confusing this must all be. But first," he said, holding up his ancient brown book, "I must share with you my discoveries." He smiled excitedly and began flipping through the pages. 

"As you now know, Miss Kingsley," he continued, glancing up at her as he perused the parchment, "we are not of this world. That means we have quite a bit of special powers at our disposal to protect us from nefarious beings, monsters, etc. I, for instance, can use the Light to blind any creature of Hell who chooses to tussle with me." 

Crowley sniggered quietly, but Aziraphale just flashed an aggravated glance at him and resumed speaking. "In addition, since celestial lightning is an important component of my soul, if I choose I can heat my skin, so much so that Hellish beings--like demons--cannot touch it." He gave her and Crowley a significant look. 

"Oh," said Jenna softly. "You mean, kind of like what Hastur thought was happening?" 

"Precisely," chirped Aziraphale. "Ah, here it is!" He pointed to a page littered with characters Jenna couldn't understand. 

"What do you make of that?" he asked Crowley, handing the book to him gingerly. Crowley frowned, appeared to read the strange characters, then gasped. 

"No," he said softly, looking up at the angel in shock. 

"Yes," corrected Aziraphale, smiling from him to Jenna. 

"But how is that possible?" continued Crowley, squinting at the book and flipping the pages forward. 

"Well, if you'll look at page 1,657, you'll see--" 

"Time out," interrupted Jenna, making the aforementioned sign with her hands as the two beings looked at her. "Before you two lose yourselves in....whatever language or subject that is, can you please just tell me what's wrong with me?" Her oceanic eyes pleaded with Aziraphale as she spoke. 

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with you, my dear," chuckled the angel, patting her hand. "In fact, quite the opposite! According to the text," he continued, taking the book back from Crowley, "between the burning sensation you produced and the manner in which you healed Crowley when he fainted--"

"Collapsed!" snapped the demon, glancing shyly at the woman. 

"Wait, what--" Jenna started. 

"Sorry. Yes, collapsed. Anyway, it all suggests very strongly that you are at least part Nephilim." He beamed proudly at Jenna, as if she'd just sold her first bestseller. 

"Im sorry, what?" said Jenna after a moment. "Neph..."

"Nephilim," repeated Aziraphale, enunciating each syllable carefully. "They are, to put it bluntly, the offspring of angels and/or demons." 

Jenna stared, repeating his words in her mind. 

"You're the former, by the way," Crowley added quickly. She looked toward him blankly. "The offspring of angels, I mean. That's why you healed me in the bookshop and kept the demons from touching you." 

"Well, we won't know for sure which she is until--"

"Look at her, you twit!" hissed Crowley angrily, gesturing toward the woman with an open hand. "Does she look like part demon to you?!" 

Aziraphale opened his mouth angrily to argue, but upon seeing Jenna's stricken face, thought better of it and kept silent. The three friends sat in silence for a few minutes, Crowley seething in the corner, Jenna staring blankly at the table and Aziraphale looking from one to the other sheepishly. 

Finally, it was Jenna who broke their strange vigil. "So, according to this book," she began in a strangely calm voice, pointing at the text like it was a pentagram, "I am either part angel or part demon. That's why I burned those demons and--wait, what do you mean, 'healed you?'" She looked at Crowley accusingly. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Crowley fumbled over his words a bit before Aziraphale stepped in. "Before I left to find the book," he began calmly, "Crowley told me how, when he collapsed in my shop (we still don't know why, by the way)," he added under his breath, "and you placed your hand on his shoulder, he felt a soothing sensation spread throughout his body, effectively removing his headache, nausea and other ailments." 

He looked at Crowley to confirm. The demon was blushing a deep magenta and not looking at anyone as he rocked back and forth on his chair, wishing Aziraphale had paraphrased his words in a less suggestive manner, but he gave a curt nod to make the angel stop staring at him. 

"Hang on, what?" said Jenna loudly. "Thats not--that wasn't intentional! I wasn't trying to heal anyone, I wasn't trying to do anything!" She stood up, her voice growing higher in pitch and more anxious with each syllable. "I was just......I don't know! I never know when to comfort people with physical touch! I wasn't thinking clearly!"

"That's probably why it worked," explained Aziraphale in a soothing voice, standing and taking her hands. "When your human mind disengaged, your celestial instincts took over and accomplished what you probably subconsciously wanted to achieve." He looked into her eyes. "Am I right?"

"Well, yeah," she admitted. "Of course I wanted him to be healed! If I was capable of that--"

"But you are, my dear," said Aziraphale, smiling kindly at his friend. "You are capable of not only healing and defending, but so much more! There is so much untapped potential in you, we just need to nurture it properly!"

Silence fell over the room yet again. Jenna pulled her hands out of the angel's, shook her head and said, "I'm not what you think I am" in a low, serious voice. She then sat on the couch, hugged herself with her bare arms and bowed her head as tears fell silently from her closed eyes. 

Aziraphale looked shocked. "Why, of course you--"

"It's okay, Angel," said Crowley in a surprisingly soft tone. "Let's just give her space, alright?"

Aziraphale reluctantly nodded, desperately wanting to fill Jenna with joy instead of sorrow, but feeling the wisdom behind the demon's words. 

"I'm sorry, my dear," he said sincerely to Jenna, whose shoulders now shook as she sobbed quietly into her hands. 

"I'll just go," the angel mouthed to Crowley, who nodded as his friend disappeared into the kitchen. 

It was now just him and Jenna. Him and the love of his life. Crowley hesitated as he watched her in pain, the devil and angel on his shoulders arguing fervently about what he should do. Should he say something? Probably. Put his arm around her? Duh! said the devil. No!! screamed the angel. 

Crowley shook his head roughly, sighed and mumbled, "Screw it," as he moved next to Jenna on the couch and tentatively wrapped a long, leather-clad arm around her shoulders. 

To his immense shock and secret delight, she leaned into him and began crying into his chest, hugging him around the neck as she did so. 

"I'm just so tired and confused," she gasped between sobs. "I don't know what's real anymore." 

"I hear you, sweetheart," said Crowley softly as he gently smoothed her long brown hair. "Its okay, it's okay. We'll figure this out, I promise." 

"Oh, God," she sniffled, starting to move away. "YIm ruining your clothes! I'm so sorry, that's a leather jacket--"

"No it's not!" exclaimed Crowley, desperately trying to keep her close. Jenna frowned up at him in confusion. "I-I mean, well, I guess it is, but you're not ruining anything! I hate these clothes! In fact, you're doing me a favor!" Shit shit shit shit shit, Crowley thought. 

Jenna have him a watery smile, giggled slightly. "That's a very nice lie," she said, her face only a few inches from his own, "but I'm sure you don't want some psycho American girl crying hysterically into your Queen T-shirt and authentic leather jacket." 

Crowley's heart fell as she pulled away and wiped her face with a tissue. "Oh, God I'm a mess," she groaned to herself, covering her face with her hands. 

"No, you're not," Crowley said softly, tenderly. 

"What?" she said, looking at him in surprise. "Did you say something?"

"No," he lied, getting up. "Although I will say now that you're not a mess," he continued, saying the words in a much less personal way. "You've been attacked, basically kidnapped by an angel and demon and just learned that you're probably not 100% human," he said, counting each piece of evidence off on his long fingers. Jenna giggled again, and his heart skipped a beat. 

"Given the indesputable facts," he continued, gesturing smoothly and adopting a lofty accent to make her laugh again, "you are handling everything with incredible grace and poise, mademoiselle." He bowed so low his long hair nearly touched the floor. 

Jenna did indeed laugh, but not nearly as much nor as freely as he hoped she would. After a brief chuckle, she scoffed at herself and turned away from the demon, shaking her head. Crowley straightened up and sat across from her, trying to decipher her expression. 

"No," she disagreed quietly, tears welling up in her blue/green eyes once more. "I'm not, although you're very kind. I'm such a...." Her voice trailed off as the soft sobs returned. 

Crowley hesitated as his personal devil and angel waged war once again in his brain. He didn't want to risk getting too close again, but he couldn't bear to see her suffering so intensely. 

Before he could stop himself, Crowley found himself saying, "That's not true, sweetheart. That's your father talking." 

Well, that got her to stop crying, but it also reopened the enormous can of worms he'd somehow managed to close earlier. 

"Alright, you're scaring me now," said Jenna seriously, leaning away from the demon. 

Before she'd finished, he jolted backwards like he'd been pushed in his efforts to put as much distance between him and her as possible. This was it. His worst fear coming true. 

She was scared of him. 

"Are you crazy?" she said loudly, standing and staring in shock at his body pressed against the wall like a starfish. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm getting away from you!" he said, sounding panicked. "You said I was scaring you, so--"

"Not physically, you idiot!" Jenna sighed and let herself fall backwards on the couch. "I just want to know why you know about my parents!" she yelled before placing a pillow over her face. 

Crowley somehow managed to stiffen even more. Oh God, how was he to answer this?! 

"Sorry to interrupt," said a soft voice, "but I can explain that." 

The demon jerked his head to balk at Aziraphale so fast it hurt, and Jenna sat up and smoothed out her already ruined dress, blushing furiously. 

"You see" continued the angel, emerging fully from his room, "both of us can sense people's history just by being near them. We suddenly receive seemingly random information about their upbringing, likes/dislikes, relationships, the list goes on. Its exhausting and intrusive, really," he added, grimacing and looking to the demon, "isn't it, Crowley?" 

Crowley stared at him blankly. He had forgotten what a good liar the angel was. Aziraphale's eyes widened and glanced at Jenna when he didn't respond immediately. 

"Oh, oh yeah," agreed Crowley, his stiff body relaxing against the wall. "Its uh, what did you say...intrusive! That's the word!" 

Jenna looked from one to the other suspiciously. A knot had just formed in the pit of her stomach, and she didn't like it. 

"If that's true," she said slowly, turning back to the angel, "then why didn't you let things slip when we first met like he did? About my parents and whatnot?"

Both beings froze and began sweating profusely. It was quite a valid question. 

"That's where we differ, you see," blurted the demon. Jenna rounded on him and he gulped loudly. "I, uh, well, Angel can tune out the thoughts much better than I can. He's an angel, so....." He trailed off, as if that explained everything. Aziraphale nodded madly like a bobblehead. 

The knot in her stomach only intensified, but Jenna was too exhausted to care or argue. "Fine, whatever," she said in a low monotone. "Just try not to listen to anymore info about me, okay? Its weird." 

"Oh, yes. Of course," Crowley assured her. "Aziraphale, if I wore the hat with the--" he gestured wildly around his head. 

"Yes, that should work," replied the angel, thankfully catching on quickly. "I'll go get it now. Tickety boo." He smiled too widely at both of them before literally hurling himself through the other door. 

Once more, it was just Crowley and Jenna. She had collapsed on the couch again, her left arm draped over her face. 

"Do you, um--" began Crowley nervously. 

"I am going to sleep," she announced to no one in particular. "And if there is a God in Heaven, when I wake up I will be in my San Diego apartment with no memory of any of this. Goodnight." With that, Jenna turned toward the back of the couch and curled up into the fetal position. 

Crowley stared at her for a few moments, before snapping out if it and leaving to join Aziraphale in the bedroom again. If God was truly that merciful, he thought bitterly to himself as he opened the door, She would have put me out of my misery three years ago and destroyed me for good.


	8. In which Crowley and Aziraphale argue

"Well, that went well," said Aziraphale as Crowley walked in. He was sitting up on the bed, reading his new mystery novel. 

"Oh, shut it," hissed the demon, ripping off his sunglasses and glaring daggers at Aziraphale. 

"Is that any way to talk to the person who just covered for you?" said the angel indignantly, closing his book with a snap. 

Crowley slumped down in an armchair, loosened his already very loose tie and sighed. "Sorry," he grumbled. "Thank you. I owe you one." He grinned half-heartedly at his friend. "That was some pretty impressive lying, Angel." 

Aziraphale cleared his throat and shifted on the bed. "Well, it was an emergency," he said defensively, refusing to meet Crowley's mischievous look. "We couldn't have you confessing your feelings her under duress. It wouldn't be fair to Jenna." 

"Oh, for Satan's sake," growled Crowley, letting his head fall backwards onto the top of the chair. 

"And besides," continued the angel, ignoring Crowley's outburst and getting up from the bed, "we have more important matters to deal with." He picked up a syringe from the desk and handed it to the demon. 

"Oh thank God, you have drugs," exhaled Crowley. 

"First of all, bite your forked tongue. Second, since when do you invoke God or Satan in your daily expletives?" Crowley blushed. "And third," continued the angel, "we need a blood sample from Jenna to determine if she is part angel, demon or both. And by how much," he added, collecting vials, powders and crystals from a nearby box. 

"Ooooookaaaaaay," said Crowley, looking apprehensively at his friend. "And you gave me the syringe because.....?"

"Well, seeing as I always faint at the sight of blood, and you were the only doctor in your camp during World War II who could administer the morphine correctly--" 

"Dentist," mumbled Crowley, glowering at the plastic tube and insidious needle. "And it was novocaine, angel." 

"Plus," continued Aziraphale emphatically, "you know her better than I do, meaning you know how she reacts with that sort of thing." 

Crowley grunted. "She's fine with needles. High pain tolerance. But I don't think she'll take too kindly to a demonic entity extracting anything from her arm." He handed the syringe back to Aziraphale. "Nice try, though. You should run for office." He clicked his tongue at him and put his sunglasses back on

Aziraphale sighed. "Where are you going?" he asked, irritated at his friend's non-compliance. 

"To get ridiculously sloshed," Crowley answered, slamming the door. 

Aziraphale scoffed and crossed his arms. 

"Hey, Jenna? Where are you?" said Crowley's slightly muffled and fully frazzled voice. "Jenna? Jenna! JENNA!" 

"What's going on?" said Aziraphale, opening the door and seeing an empty flat. "Crowley? Where are you?" 

He ran back into the room, nearly hyperventilating. "She's not here." 

"What?" 

"SHE'S NOT HERE, ANGEL! I CANT SEE, HEAR OR FEEL HER PRESENCE! HOW THE FUCK ELSE CAN I SAY IT?!"

"Okay, okay," said Aziraphale, trying to calm his friend down. "Its okay. She probably just went out to--"

"TO WHAT, AZIRAPHALE?! SHE'S NEVER BEEN TO SWITZERLAND, DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT CITY WE'RE IN! WHERE THE FUCK WOULD SHE GO?!" 

"STOP SHOUTING AT ME!" 

"Hang on," said Crowley in his indoor voice, picking up a note from the couch. "Look at this!" 

Both men read what the note said; Aziraphale grew paler, colder and more terrified with each word, while Crowley's eyes grew so red and hot that they melted his glasses. 

"I'm gonna kill those fucking bastards," he hissed, tearing the useless plastic off and burning the note with a flash of fire in his tightly clenched fist. Jet black wings unfurled from his back as he roared in fury and pain. Aziraphale shook himself slightly, saw Crowley's floating form and released his own pure white wings from their sheath. 

"Follow me," hissed the demon as he and the angel snapped their fingers and disappeared from the sunny Swiss flat.


	9. In which Jenna annoys Hastur

Jenna groaned and slowly moved her head. She hadn't felt this loopy since the dentist removed her wisdom teeth two years ago. Her eyes slowly opened, the blurry images becoming clearer with each blink. 

She really wished they hadn't. 

Jenna was in a dark, damp and dismal room, rather like an abandoned office from some sort of B-rated horror film. Dull fluorescent lights flickered above her head, water steadily dripped from the ceiling and rats scurried across the floor, which was stained a very disconcerting shade of russet brown in several places. 

The nauseating smell of mildew assaulted her olfactory sense, and she shivered involuntarily when a freezing breeze inexplicably blew through the room. Perhaps worst of all was the chilling sensation of icy chains brushing against her wrists, ankles and arms as she frantically attempted to free herself from what appeared to be a small metallic chair. 

"Hey, what's going on?" she shouted, trying to mask her sheer terror with anger. "Where the hell am I?" 

"Where the Hell indeed," answered a deep, menacing and unfortunately familiar voice from the shadows in front of her. 

Jenna's eyes widened in fear as the men from the alley stepped forward slowly into the light. Each was leering at her with smug grins on their ashen faces, their suits noticeably less shabby but still covered with what appeared to be layers of dust. 

"Miss Kingsley," continued the cigar man as they formed a sort of half moon around her. "We are so pleased you were able to grace us with your lovely presence once more." 

The men cackled nefariously. Jenna clenched her jaw and stared into Hastur's black, emotionless eyes, not allowing herself to appear afraid or intimidated. 

"Allow me to properly introduce myself and my associates," said the man. "I am Hastur, Duke of Hell." He bowed low before Jenna, which elicited more snickers from his cronies. 

As well as an unexpected snort from their prisoner. 

Hastur looked up in time to see Jenna try and fail miserably to suppress a grin, her shoulders shaking a bit from laughter. 

"I'm sorry," she said with surprising confidence, "did you just say, "Duke of Hell?" 

Hastur's sneer slid off his pale face and was replaced by a frown. "Yes, I said duke," he answered, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Why?" 

"Sorry," repeated Jenna, trying not to smile but again, failing rather spectacularly. "I just didn't know demons had, like, royal titles or whatever." 

"Oh yes," interjected another demon rather eagerly. "Unlike Heaven, which created ridiculous titles like 'Archangel' and 'Cherubim,'" he said the terms in a mocking voice and used air quotes, "Hell adopted a sophisticated system of ranks. Let's see, we have dukes, princes, lords, ladies, counts, mas--"

He would have continued, if Hastur hadn't grabbed him by the throat and burned him to a crisp as he screamed for mercy. Jenna watched in horror as the demon, who she wasn't particularly fond of, died an agonizing death right before her eyes. 

Once he had disintegrated, Hastur brushed his hands clean and turned back to Jenna, smirking once again. "Perhaps we can dispense with the introductions after all," he said, "and just get straight to the point." 

Jenna glared at him. "I already told you, I don't know anything about Crowley!! We just met yesterday, I know literally nothing about him other than he lives in London, drives a Bentley and drinks like a fish." 

Her heart was pounding in her chest. This was much easier to tell them the first time, when it was true. She hated lying as she could not tolerate guilt of any sort, but she pushed aside the discomfort and tried to look exasperated rather than terrified. 

Hastur slowly walked up to her, grasped the chair's metallic back bars tightly and leaned forward so that his hideous face was less than an inch from her own. She shut her eyes and tried to move away, but she couldn't escape the disgusting smell of his cigars or his hot, rancid breath. 

"You're lying," he whispered. "We're demons; you think we can't tell?" 

As she held her breath and squirmed, Jenna was distracted by another knot in her stomach. it was smaller than the one she felt when Crowley and Aziraphale were explaining why the former knew so much about her, but it was still there, twisting and churning like it meant something. But what? 

"Now," continued the demon, moving back to stand with his henchmen, "let's try this again, shall we?" 

Jenna glared at him as he repeated what he'd demanded to know last night: "How did Crowley survive the holy water? What other powers does he possess? Why did he choose you?" 

"Oh, for God's sake!" yelled Jenna. Each demon flinched noticably at the mention of the Lord's name. "I don't fucking know what you're talking about! We. Just. Met. Yesterday. I know nothing about anything, you insipid, insecure freaks!!" 

She glared at them intensely, trying to burn holes in their stupid faces. 

"Um, Your Disgrace?" rasped the shortest demon. "I don't think she knows anything..." 

Hastur said nothing, just glared back at Jenna. "Didn't he tell you what he was?" he snapped after a bit. 

Jenna snorted again. "I don't know what y'all are on, but I'd take a bit less if I were you, cuz it's just making you even crazier than you probably are normally." 

Hastur looked a bit confused at her words, but waved them away. "Never mind," he said dismissively. "Perhaps he didn't tell her," he spoke in hushed tones to his friends, "but he'll still come for her. And then we'll have our answers." 

They all dispersed throughout the room, snapping chairs into existence and lounging. 

"Well, it's your lucky day, Miss Kingsley," Hastur said, his mouth sneering but his eyes glaring at Jenna. "It looks like you get to play Damsel in Distress until your Prince Charming rescues you. Crawly should really thank me," he continued, looking up and cocking his head thoughtfully. "I mean, how often does one get the opportunity to sweep the love of their life off their feet in a grand romantic gesture such as a rescue mission?" He sneered at Jenna, his eyes now twinkling with malice.

The woman blinked. "What the fuck are you talking about?" she said nonplussed, narrowing her eyes at her captors. "Crowley doesn't know me from a hole in the ground. Well," she admitted, "except for the whole "intrusive thoughts telling him about my past thing"--"

"What was that?" asked the demon, looking confused again. "What intrusive thought.....thing?" 

"You know," prompted Jenna. "How angels and demons get information about your past just by being around you. That's his he knew so much about my parents." 

The five infernal beings stared at her for second before bursting out in raucous laughter that echoed throughout the cave-like room. 

"Do you mean to tell me," gasped Hastur, wiping black tears out of his eyes, "that that son of a bitch told you he knows about your past because he receives information about you via social interaction?" He couldn't finish without succumbing to cackles again. "That's the best bullshit he's pulled yet!" 

Jenna gritted her teeth and held back hot tears as the demons roared with laughter. 

"Whew," exhaled Hastur after at least three minutes. "Thank you, my dear, we all needed a good laugh." He leered at her again, now with amusement decorating his ashen visage. 

"Well, one is glad to be of service," she answered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I only wish I knew what was so amusing to you gentlemen." 

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask," simpered Hastur, his smile widening as he snapped his fingers. 

Jenna jerked so violently she nearly toppled over with the chair. Her surroundings had immediately changed to that of a sunny park, with children laughing, dogs chasing sticks and happy couples kissing on park benches. She almost called out for help until she felt someone pass through her, as if they were a ghost. 

"We are in the past," explained Hastur, clearly amused by her confusion. "See anyone familiar?"

Jenna gave him the meanest look she could muster, then began searching the scene for recognizable people. After a bit, she found a tall young girl, about 8-years-old, giggling as two other girls told her a funny story. 

Her jaw dropped. 

It was her. It was Jenna as an 8-year-old, with short brown hair and pink sandals. 

"Very good," said Hastur patronizingly. Her put his arm on the back of the chair, though Jenna noticed he was careful to avoid even accidentally brushing against her bare skin. Leaning in, he whispered and pointed, "Look." 

Her eyes widened with.....she didn't know what. On a bench reading something called The Infernal Times sat Crowley, with fashionably short hair and no leather jacket. Ever so often, he would look around at the giggling girls and smile before returning contentedly to his paper. 

"What the fuck?" she whispered, her brow wrinkling in major confusion. 

Suddenly, a boy ran up to Jenna and pushed her down. She was more stunned than bothered, but her friends looked terrified as the boy, who she now recognized as Tommy Walters, jeered, "What're you gonna do about it, ugly?"

Before young Jenna could respond, her adult self heard newspaper crinkling and looked over at Crowley. He had crumpled the editorial and stood up, scowling at Tommy as he snapped his fingers aggressively at him. 

"Ahhhh!" Tommy yelled as a rather scruffy Chihuahua, who had previously been napping peacefully under a tree, began chasing him with bated fangs and a fierce snarl, as if possessed. Jenna and her friends laughed as the tiny dog chased Tommy, who was rather large for his age, all over the park, until he finally had the insight to hide inside a covered slide and cried loudly. 

Crowley watched this unfold with an extremely smug and satisfied expression on his face, only sitting back down and fixing his paper when Jenna and her companions had moved on to play somewhere else, away from the drama. 

The scene changed, and yet it didn't. Again, and again, and again, Jenna sat stone-still as she watched Crowley observe, protect and occasionally interfere in her life as she grew up. She saw him at her band concerts, beaming proudly as she struggled to play the flute; walking a ways behind her and her girlfriends at the mall as they chatted animatedly, unaware of the predatory older men eyeing them and then inexplicably fainting from the horrific images Crowley forced them to mentally view instead; whooping and clapping vigorously despite annoyed stares from those around him as she graduated high school in bright purple robes. 

"Ah, this is my personal favorite," said Hastur as their surroundings slowly became those of a college campus at night. Jenna remembered this night vividly, as she had spent weeks mentally reviewing it. 

She and Josh Blake, a Poli-Sci major from her Technical Writing class, were kissing on a wooden bench in front of her dorm. Only their lips were touching, but Jenna remembered how electric it felt, how much she wanted more. 

This was too much. Jenna felt the overwhelming urge to vomit as she watched the demons view one of her most vulnerable moments like a mildly entertaining film. Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, she turned her head to the right and tried to ignore the horror unfolding in front of her, but immediately regretted the decision. 

A long-haired Crowley was sitting in his parked Bentley on the side of the road, scowling at her and Josh in the courtyard.

"At first," explained Hastur, slowly moving so she could see him in addition to Crowley, "we assumed he was trying to corrupt your young soul for our master, which was fine. Seemed a bit dark for him, but we always have a shortage of innocent young girls, so overall it made sense." The demon paused, glaring at Crowley in his Bentley as the other demon's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly they turned white. 

"As you grew older," continued Hastyr, still glaring at Crowley, "it became painfully obvious that our theory was false. Some suggested he was grooming you to be a sort of plaything once you reached sexual maturity," Hastur smirked as Jenna cringed with disgust, "but, as you can see, this was also incorrect. Watch." 

Jenna didn't want to open her eyes, but curiosity overcame her. She slowly looked up at her and Josh kissing, their arms now hugging each other closely. Her eyes glanced at the parked Bentley nervously. 

Crowley looked like he was going to explode. His face was crimson, he was breathing like a buffalo who'd just run ten miles and his sunglasses were starting to melt a bit. 

"Oh, Josh," sighed 22-year-old Jenna, laying her head on the future accountant's chest and snuggling into his warm embrace. "I'm so happy." 

At her slightly younger self's words, Crowley's terrifying appearance softened. He exhaled as his hands loosened on the steering wheel and his face returned to its normal tan, but his lips trembled slightly as he turned his face away from the couple. After a few moments of sniffling, he roughly swiped at his cheeks and stared at her past self with that strange, intense expression he'd had on earlier today, the one that puzzled her to no end. With a grunt and a rough shake of his head, he turned the radio on and blasted Queen as he sped away into the night.

Sickeningly quickly, Jenna once again found herself in the creepy dim room where she had awoken. Her head ached with confusion and she felt both exhausted and restless. 

"I still can't believe he told you that ridiculous story instead of the truth," said Hastur, leaning against a decrepit desk and shaking his head. "What a pathetic excuse for a demon." He tssked at his former associate's behavior, then briskly straightened. "Well, no matter. As soon as he gets here to rescue his lovely lady from the bad guys, he'll pay for his mistakes." 

Jenna's veins surged with icy fear. She didn't want to know what that meant. 

"Denve," Hastur said to one of his cronies, "please prepare the torture chamber for Master Crowley and his beloved." 

As soon as he said "torture chamber," that uncomfortable knot returned once again to Jenna's stomach. She initially assumed it was sheer terror, but it felt more like irritation, even annoyance. What the hell was going on? 

"Uh, Your Disgrace," murmured Denve nervously in a scratchy voice, "we don't have access to--"

"DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I SAID, YOU PUTRID VERMIN?!" screamed Hastur, causing everyone to wince. "I GAVE YOU A DIRECT ORDER! NOW GO!!" 

"Of course, sir! My apologies!" squeaked Denve. "Please don't punish my again, Your Disgrace!"

Hastur sighed, rubbing his temples. He took a deep breath and smiled placidly at Denve, who was shaking like a leaf. 

"Of course I won't, my dear friend," simpered the duke, his tone sickly sweet. The knot in Jenna's stomach grew larger than ever and squeezed tightly. She winced at the befuddling pain.

"Oh, thank you, Your Disgrace!"

"Of course. Now, run along and ready up the chamber for our guests." Denve ran out gleefully, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

"You're not gonna hurt him?" asked another demon in a very slow and disappointed baritone. 

"Of course I am, you idiot!" snapped Hastur, immediately reverting to his former demeanor. The knot in Jenna's belly loosened considerably, and she exhaled in relief. "I am not soft or merciful like our treacherous brother. I am a duke of Hell, eager to kill and maim for nothing !" 

The knot loosened a bit more, and then Jenna knew. She smiled. 

"Now," continued Hastur, adopting the sickly sweet tone with which he'd addressed Denve, "where were we, my dear?"

He turned around, expecting to see the human staring in terror at him, or perhaps sobbing hysterically. Maybe even about to beg for mercy. He loved when they did that. 

What he did NOT expect was the huge, smug and incredibly mischievous grin upon his prisoner's face. 

He stumbled backwards, loosing his imposing composure for a moment upon seeing her strange expression. Had she gone mad? What in Satan's name was going through that girl's head? 

"I believe you were saying how you were going to torture Crowley and I once he arrived," she replied cheerfully, emphasizing "torture" with a nod of her head.

Hastur just stared at her, unsure how to respond. 

"You're taking this remarkably well," observed a fourth demon emotionlessly and without inflection, like a computer voice. 

"Why, thank you!" said the woman sweetly, smiling even wider at her captors. "What a nice thing to say!"

At that word, the demons hissed and spat like she'd just called them something disgusting, which to them she had. 

Jenna chuckled. Aziraphale had warned her not to use the words "nice," "good," or "kind" to describe Crowley in his presence, as they tended to upset him. She took a guess and assumed his fellow demons wouldn't care for it either. 

"How dare you!" one hissed, glaring daggers at her wicked grin. 

"Why, you little--"

"Stop!" warned Hastur, grabbing his associate's burly arm and preventing his from coming too close to Jenna. "Remember, we can't touch her!" 

"We can't touch her skin," corrected the rasping demon, wrenching his arm free. "That doesn't mean we can't hurt her!" 

"That's true!" piped up the others. 

Hastur considered this, then leered evilly at Jenna. "I suppose you're right," he said to his cronies, who cheered and started pulling various sharp weapons from behind their backs. 

"Uh, I don't think you are, actually." 

The four demons stared at her, stunned once again at her nonchalance and bravery in their presence. 

"Wh-what do you mean?" stuttered the monotone one. 

Hastur internally groaned and wished he could strangle the demon. Why, oh why was he always assigned to work with such imbeciles?!

"I don't know what I mean, to be honest," replied Jenna after a short pause. "I just know you can't hurt me again. At least not here, in Hell, which is apparently an abandoned interrogation room of some sort." She wrinkled her nose as she looked around, unimpressed. "You know," she continued with a serious expression, "you should really consider indoor heating. People on Earth are under the impression this is an inferno, not a moldy basement." 

The girl stared at the four demons with a knowing look on her face, while they exchanged shrugs and confused looks. Hastur's face changed from flabbergasted, to horrified, to furious, to annoyed and finally settled on irritated. 

"I thought you were human," he said in a dangerously low voice through gritted teeth. 

"So did I," replied Jenna, her dark eyes narrowing as she matched his tone and demeanor. 

Before they could say anymore, the door blasted inward, knocking two demons unconscious. 

"Jenna? Are you in here?" said a tentative male voice. To Jenna's surprise and relief, Aziraphale peered nervously in the doorway, his blonde hair and cream suit disheveled. 

"Jenna!" He exclaimed. "CROWLEY!" he yelled behind him. "SHE'S HERE!" 

Hastur roared furiously as a dark shape flew into the room, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him so roughly against the concrete wall it cracked like an egg.


	10. In which Jenna and Crowley kiss

"You fucking bastard," hissed Crowley as he pinned Hastur to the wall. His eyes were burning red and so intense that the duke had to close his own, as if shielding them from the sun's harsh glare. "What did you do to her, you piece of shit?" 

"Crowley!" cried Aziraphale, leaping over unconscious demons and sprinting across the room. "Let's just grab Jenna and go!"

"WHAT DID YOU BASTARDS DO TO HER?!" Crowley screamed inhumanly, shoving Hastur deeper into the collapsing wall. "If you touched her I'll make you suffer," he hissed, his face less than an inch from the grimacing duke. 

"Oh my God," exclaimed the angel, snapping his fingers and quickly freeing Jenna from her bonds. She jumped up and hugged him tightly.

"Zira," she exhaled, already feeling safer in his presence. "How did you--"

"Why the FUCK are you just standing there?!" yelled Hastur at his one remaining henchman as Crowley seethed in his face. "Attack him! Capture him! Anything!" 

"AHHHHHH!" Aziraphale quickly turned Jenna around so that she wouldn't see Crowley shoot a steady stream of Hellfire at the shortest demon, effectively burning him to a crisp as he shrieked in agony. 

"Let's go, Miss Kingsley," gasped the angel, his hand covering her eyes as they ran out of the room. 

"What about Crowley?" she cried, trying not to trip on anything. 

"He's fine, he's got it under control!" Aziraphale assured her. "I think..." He added quietly. 

"You think?!" repeated Jenna, ripping his hand off her face. "We can't just leave him there!" 

"He's more than a match for Hastur, now let's go!" Aziraphale cried anxiously, his bright blue eyes begging her to listen. "Please, there's only so much I can do for you here," he pleaded in an undertone, glancing nervously around the dark, deserted hallway. 

Jenna could have slapped herself. Of course, he was an angel currently in Hell! She had to get him out ASAP!!!

"I'm sorry, let's go," she said, taking his hand and letting him pull her down the hallway. 

"Hey, what's going on down there?!" yelled a few angry voices. 

"Fuck!" Jenna stared in shock at Aziraphale, never having heard him swear before and feeling rather surprised that he could, being an angel and all. "Let's....go in here!" Aziraphale opened a random door and pulled her through, shutting and locking it as thundering footsteps echoed in the hallway. 

"Phew," sighed the angel, wiping his sweaty brow. "That was close." 

"Oh," said Jenna, staring at their surroundings. "I guess this is where they keep the inferno....." 

Aziraphale turned around and gasped. They were indeed inside what appeared to be humanity's stereotypical vision of Hell: a huge, cavernous active volcano, with bubbling rivers of glowing yellow and orange lava, harsh chemical steam hissing through the air and craggy obsidian rocks collapsing and falling into the abyss. Tortured screams filled the air, and rabid Hellhounds howled and ravaged each other miles below the top of the cliff where Jenna and the angel stood, rooted to the spot. 

"What is this?" gasped Jenna, gazing in wonder and horror at the sight. 

"I don't know," whispered the angel, "but I don't think it's a way out." 

"No, it's not, actually," sneered a familiar voice behind them. Both whipped around, only to see a bloody and beaten Hastur standing there with his arms crossed and a twisted smile on his lacerated face. "But it's a good way in." 

Without any sort of monologue or preamble, Hastur blasted Aziraphale aside with something dark and shadowy, grabbed Jenna roughly and flung her off the side of the cliff, down to the boiling fires below. 

"AHHHHHH!" she screamed, screwing her eyes shut and bracing her body for the unbearable pain. 

But it didn't come.

Instead, she felt a pair of strong arms gently catch and hold her, one hand under her legs and another supporting her back. She kept her eyes closed and clung on to whatever robe the figure wore, still not convinced this wasn't a hallucination. Jenna felt them ascend further into the blistering air until cooler breezes blew across her skin. She peeked and saw she was now in the shade of an overhanging cliff, and back on solid ground, although much higher than she and Aziraphale had been before. 

The figure slowly laid her down on the rocky ground. Once she was no longer airborne, Jenna felt safe to release the robes and open her eyes. 

She gasped. Kneeling next to her was Crowley, but an entirely different Crowley than the one she'd last seen in the Swiss flat. He wore a long black robe that flowed elegantly around his slim form, and his fiery orange hair seemed to ripple with life. The most startling change, however, was that he was no longer wearing his sunglasses. 

Gorgeous molten golden eyes looked at her with panic and concern, the black pupil slits reminiscent of a snake's. She stared as the pupils slowly dilated and the irises revealed different colors and hues: autumn wheat, warm tans, searing yellow sun rays.....it was beautiful. 

They were so beautiful. 

"Jenna? Jenna, can you hear me?" 

His terrified voice brought her back to the present. His hands gripped her shoulders gently. "I asked if you were alright," he continued anxiously, peering into her face as though looking for something. 

"Oh, I'm, I'm fine," Jenna breathed, still lost in the demon's fascinating eyes. "I just, um..." 

"What is it?" He asked, concerned. Then, his expression became guarded when he remembered that he was not wearing his glasses. "Oh, fuck" he groaned, closing his beautiful orbs and turning away from her as he stood up. "I'm so sorry. Just, just don't look at me, okay?" 

"Wait!" Jenna jumped up and lunged forward, tripping on a stray rock. He spun around and caught her before she fell, his hands on her bare arms and a dark blush now making his face look like a radiant sunset. He released her and mumbled more apologies as she straightened up. 

They stared silently into each other's eyes, his golden and snake-like and hers a deep sea blue. "Please don't turn away," she pleaded, her voice cracking slightly. "Please don't hide them again." 

His brow furrowed. "Wh-what do you mean?" 

"Your eyes," Jenna breathed, gently smoothing a stray hair out of his face. "They are so beautiful." 

Time froze for Crowley once again. He stopped breathing, and the only sounds he could hear were his own heartbeat and Jenna's sweet inhales and exhales as she gazed in adoration and wonder at his damned, cursed, evil, disgusting eyes. He thought nothing, but felt a tingling warmth spread throughout his body as her eyes moved from his to take in his entire form, including the wings. 

If only she could have seen his pristine white wings before he Fell......not these scraggly, pathetic, vulture-like things that barely got any use. 

She gasped upon seeing these very wings, which to her were almost as beautiful as his eyes. They were huge, expansive, strong-looking and sleek. 

"May I touch your wings?" she whispered, tentatively raising a hand. 

He couldn't, wouldn't, refused to believe his ears. Was he actually in Heaven instead of Hell?

"I'm sorry, what?" he said, hoping beyond hope that he heard her right. 

Jenna blushed and dropped her hand. "Sorry, that was stupid--"

"No!" he cried, a bit too loudly. "It's fine if--I mean, it's...of course you can, if you want to," he mumbled. 

She gingerly raised her hand again, and slowly placed it on one of his higher feathers.

Crowley closed his eyes and sighed as Jenna's soft hand gently stroked his ebony feathers. Angelic and demonic wings are the most sensitive part of their celestial bodies, and no one had ever touched his wings except himself. Not even Aziraphale. Not even God, before the Fall. 

"Oh, wow," she breathed. He opened his eyes and found her staring at him adoringly again. "This is you?" 

He nodded. "This is me, in my true form." He held his breath. 

She shook her head in amazement. "You're beautiful." 

That did it. The heat and tingles that had been slowly making their way through the demon's veins surged with such an intensity that his eyes glowed fiercely and he inhaled sharply. Before he could stop himself, Crowley grabbed her smooth cheeks with his rough, ancient hands and kissed her perfect, perfect mouth. 

Time now froze for Jenna as she felt Crowley's warm hands gently cup her face and his surprisingly warm lips press tenderly to hers. Her eyes widened in surprise for only a moment before they closed and she leaned into his body, wrapping her arms around his neck and exhaling softly. 

Josh was the only person Jenna had ever kissed romantically, and even that was rather chaste when she looked back on it (literally). It lasted a few minutes and left really steamy at the time, but both kept their mouths closed and didn't touch each other in any funny places. Plus, it was pretty cold and slimy, all things considering.

This was nothing like kissing Josh. It was passionate, warm and instinctual: her mouth opened and her tongue and lips moved in ways she never thought they could. His hot breath mingled with hers as his mouth eagerly received hers, devouring her pleasurably with his tongue and full lips. 

This was an entirely new experience for Crowley as well, considering he had never kissed anyone on the lips in any capacity (just hands when greeting royals or high-ranking demons). When he finally realized what he had done, his eyes shot open and he was about to pull away when her mouth opened and her tongue moved over his lips, sending waves of immense pleasure throughout his body. 

He hesitated. The angel on his right shoulder screamed at him to stop this careless and selfish behavior at once, while the devil on his left shoulder sang, "We Are The Champions" at the top of its tiny lungs. Both compelling arguments, but Jenna's soft hand running through his hair broke the tie and he swallowed her innocent mouth with his sinful one, gently dancing with her incredible tongue and trying to convey his feelings for her through this one stolen kiss. 

After several minutes of wordless bliss, they separated and rested their foreheads together, breathing heavily. His hands were lightly placed on her elbows and her hands rested on his broad shoulders.

"You have no idea," exhaled Crowley emphatically, his eyes closed, "how long I've wanted to do that." 

She smiled softly and rested her cheek on his chest. His heart was pounding hard and steady; she closed her eyes and listened to the soothing rhythm. She felt his arms encircle her and caress her lovingly, rubbing her back slightly. His body was so warm and felt so good, so right against hers. She sighed contentedly. 

Jenna then heard a soft fluttery noise and saw Crowley's ebony wings envelope her and him in their magnificent embrace. She hugged him tightly, feeling more comfortable and safer than ever before. 

"I am so, so sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his cheek rested against her soft hair. "This is all my fault. I should never have--"

"I'm glad you did," she interrupted, looking up at him and smiling. 

He frowned, unsure what she meant. "Well, you don't even know--"

"Actually," she interrupted again, scrunching her face so adorably that he almost just kissed her again, "I kind of do. Hastur--" (Crowley scowled at the name but didn't interrupt), "--......kind of gave--or, actually showed-- me, the general idea," she confessed. "But I'd much rather hear your interpretation." 

Crowley's pupils nearly disappeared as he froze with utter mortification. "Oh, sweet J-.....mother of G-......S-.....fuck!" he spat, running his hands through his hair and looking above her head, starting to sweat a bit. 

"Listen, Jenna," he said fervently, his wonderful eyes staring into hers, " I don't know what that bastard told you, but I promise that I never, ever felt anything but platonic affection and friendship for you until you turned 20. I swear to God, Satan and anything else that'll let me," he said very soberly, placing his right hand over his heart and raising his left. "I analyzed my feelings for years, searching for any sign that I was.....well, I was terrified that---i even prayed. To God!" He added, as if the very notion was ludicrous. 

"I didn't expect a reply from Upstairs," continued the demon, shaking his head sadly, "but She actually spoke to me. Me! And--and she said my feelings truly were......platonic, until you became an adult. I mean, I know there's no way you'll believe me, I can't even imagine how disgusted you are right now--"

"Hey," she said firmly, placing a gentle hand on his flushed cheek. "Don't talk like that. It's ok, Crowley. It's ok." She smiled sweetly and gazed into his amazing golden eyes. "All I saw was how much you cared about me as a child and protected me as an adolescent. I truly appreciate that. You're like my guardian angel." 

He scoffed. "Not much of an angel," he muttered under his breath, looking down. 

She gently placed a few fingers under his chin and raised his ashamed face to meet hers again. "And later on," she continued, still smiling reassuringly, "I saw that you fell in love with me. It's that expression that you wore yesterday.....you didn't have that look until the last memory, the night I kissed Josh Blake." 

He looked up in thought, glowered slightly at the memory and nodded. Josh is garbage, he thought hatefully. 

"I didn't know what that look meant until now," she continued. His eyes found hers again, and his expression softened. 

"You're so wonderful," he whispered, stroking her cheek with his hand. "I'm just glad you're safe." 

"Oh yeah! Speaking of which," she chirped, tapping her finger lightly on his nose, "thank you for saving me!" 

He smiled and chuckled, tapping her nose as well. "Anytime, Miss Kingsley." 

She tilted her head adorably and gazed into his eyes without any fear whatsoever, which was way more of a turn on for Crowley than it had any right to be. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed, distracting him from his rather lascivious thoughts. "Aziraphale! We have to get him out of here! And Hastur, where'd--"

Crowley just smiled, gently guided Jenna to the cliff's edge and pointed diagonally downward. She saw the angel waving happily at them, a huge smile on his round face, and no sign of the duke. 

"Angel pushed him into the lava after I caught you," Crowley explained, placing his hands on her shoulders and grinning down at her.

She twisted her head back to meet his gaze. "Does that mean he's gone? Like, for good?"

Crowley's smile faded. "No," he admitted, now looking into the churning lava flowing steadily below them. "No, nothing from Hell can officially kill him....only holy water or some other Heavenly substance." 

"Oh," said Jenna, anxiously searching the lava for signs of the demon. "I guess that means we're still not safe..."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," replied Crowley, spinning her around to face him and smirking. "You see, Hastur broke a lot of Infernal Laws when he kidnapped you--most notably, "Don't bring live humans into Hell under any circumstances"-- plus, he booked a torture chamber under a false name," he added, grinning down at the woman playfully, "which is a pretty big offense here.

"Anyway," he continued, waving back to Aziraphale and stretching out his wings a bit, "once I tell Lord Beelzebub what he's done, he won't have the power, time or energy to bother us for a long time. Like, think centuries, not years," he clarified. 

Jenna raised one eyebrow. "Is that true?"

Crowley pretended to look insulted. "Would I lie to you?" he said dramatically, placing a hand on his heart. 

Jenna smirked. "Well, considering your former master is literally the Prince of Lies, you probably would." 

"Fair," conceded the demon, smiling widely at their witty banter. 

She grinned back. "Honestly, I know you're not lying," she confessed. "I just wanted to see what you would say." 

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know I'm not lying?" he asked teasingly. 

"Oh, I can sense lies now," she explained cheerfully, looking back at Aziraphale. "Shouldn't we be heading back?" 

"Wait, what?" The demon held up his hands. "You can what now?" 

"I'll explain later. Right now, I'm thinking we should get the angelic being out of Dante's Inferno, don't you?"

Crowley laughed. "That's actually pretty good," he remarked, moving up to stand by her at the ledge. "You know, I met him once. Dante. He was a kleptomaniac." 

"Really?" said Jenna. "Is that why he went to Hell?" 

"Nah, but I'll tell you that after you tell me how you can sense lies." He shifted his weight awkwardly. "D-do you mind if I carry you again? Just till we get back down," he added quickly, looking nervous and sweaty again. 

She smiled at his shyness. "Only if you promise to also answer all my questions about Hell once we get back home," she bargained. 

He relaxed, grinned widely and pointed at her. "You're on."


	11. In which Crowley draws Jenna's blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added and changed a few minor things, let me know what you think!

"So, as soon as we draw some of your blood," explained Aziraphale to Jenna as Crowley and they sat in his kitchen back in Soho, "we place it in the vial with these crystals, wait 5 minutes and see what color your blood turns." He flipped through the ancient book some more as Jenna sipped on her cocoa and Crowley frowned at the needles on the table.

"These are too big," he complained, grimacing at the butterfly needles Aziraphale bought to extract Jenna's blood. "What is this, the Middle Ages? She's gonna get a bloody bruise!"

"Crowley, relax," said Jenna, rubbing his arm. "You know me, I've never minded needles. And butterflies are some of the most comfortable ones!"

Crowley grunted doubtfully, still glaring at the offensive medical devices.

"Apparently," said Aziraphale, so absorbed in the text that he hadn't heard a word they'd said, "the darker the blood becomes, or rather the blacker, the more demonic the person is," he licked his finger and flipped the page, "whereas the more translucent it grows, the more angelic they are. Biologically, at least," he added, looking up to clarify. "This says nothing about personality traits, mind you--just the celestial or infernal powers that may be present in your genetic makeup."

"This is actually pretty cool," Jenna admitted, rolling up her sleeve.

"What, losing blood?" teased Crowley.

"No," she made a face at him, "I mean, I'm excited to find out what I am! I'm sorry I was so sensitive about being a Nephilim at the beginning, I think I was scared to hope I was special until I could feel when those demons were lying." She grinned. "It was really empowering!"

"That's so good to hear, my dear," gushed Aziraphale, smiling paternally at the young woman. "That is a very rare angelic trait---yet another sign that you ancestors were indeed angels."

"Of course they were!" said Crowley in an irritated tone. "What, you think someone like her could be demonic?" He gestured with his thumb to Jenna, who crossed her arms and pretended to look offended.

"Oh, I see how it is," said Jenna, smirking. "You don't think I've got what it takes to be a big, bad demon like you?" She leaned in and poked him in the chest lightly as she spoke in a light, playful tone.

Crowley blushed and cleared his throat, suddenly finding the syringe in front of him extremely fascinating.

"Alright, Miss Kingsley," interjected Aziraphale, smiling knowingly at his embarrassed friend. "Let's get started before Crowley changes his mind. Again."

"Oh, forgive me for not deriving pleasure from extracting human blood!" said Crowley defensively, crossing his arms and pouting.

He paused, then looked at Jenna with a much softer expression. "Are you sure it's ok if I do this?" he asked anxiously. "Cuz its not too late to change your--"

"Oh my God," groaned Jenna, burying her face in her hands. "For the billionth time, yes! It's fine if you take my blood! In fact, please do! I just want to see what I am!" She looked up and gave him an exasperated smile. "Okay?"

"Sorry," mumbled Crowley, unable to meet her gaze. Jenna's smiled slid off, and she felt guilt churning in her stomach along with Aziraphale's delicious hot cocoa.

After a few awkward seconds during which the trio heard nothing but the ticking of Aziraphale's antique grandfather clock, the angel excused himself to give them some privacy to extract Jenna's blood.

Without looking at the woman again, Crowley say across from her and picked up the alcohol wipe to clean her skin despondently.

"Hey," said Jenna softly, placing her hand over his. His golden eyes flickered up to hers in surprise. She smiled, so glad he agreed not to wear his sunglasses in front of her anymore. "I'm so sorry for snapping at you. I really appreciate that you always ask for my consent with everything, and I should never have made you feel bad about it."

Crowley frowned, not knowing what to say. Why was she apologizing? She hadn't done anything wrong! He's the one who was a neurotic mess around her!

"The truth is," she continued, taking a deep breath, "I'm really scared to take this test. I want to do it, don't get me wrong," she assured him hastily, "and I'm still super excited, but......I don't know. I just......I don't know what to do if it says I'm not fully.....human....."

She trailed off, scratching anxiously at the table. Crowley nodded. "I won't pretend to understand how you feel," be began tentatively, "but I know what it feels like to feel scared, and.....different."

She looked up at him, and saw a faraway look in his gorgeous eyes.

"I'm also the one who's sorry," he added, smiling apologetically. "I'm just nervous myself, I guess. The last time I did this was World War II, and, well, I was a mediocre dentist who primarily numbed people's gums and got periodically high on the laughing gas."

Jenna laughed, and it made Crowley's heart soar. Before first meeting 6-year-old Jenna in 2001, his favorite sounds were Queen, the roar of his Bentley as he flew down deserted roads at night and the angelic choir a he could still sometimes hear practicing on very still Christmas Eves. Now, it was a solid tie between Jenna's loud, spontaneous laugh and her extraordinary singing, which in his opinion made both Queen (yes, even Freddie) and the angelic choirs sound rather dull and monotonous in comparison.

"Well, despite your lack of medical expertise," she said with a sweet smile, "it's just a simple blood draw, so I don't think there's anything to be nervous about. I trust you."

"What did you just say?" he asked, frowning seriously.

She squeezed his hand once and looked deeply into his mesmerizing eyes. "I trust you," she repeated, enunciating each word carefully.

"Ah." Crowley scratched the back of his head and looked away awkwardly. No one had ever trusted him before, except Aziraphale. And even that was only on special occasions.

"Anyway, doctor," she continued, exposing the vulnerable flesh on the inside of her long, supple arm to him. "Let's get started!"

He nodded slowly, took a deep breath and gently wiped her creamy skin clean with the disinfecting alcohol.

"Shouldn't you tie a tourniquet up here first?" She pointed at her bicep.

He stared at her as though he'd just asked her to amputate her arm instead. "Why in Heaven or Hell would I tie a bloody tourniquet around your arm?" he cried in alarm, "It's not like you've got gangrene or something!"

"No, no, I didn't mean that," she said, laughing and putting up her hands to calm him down. "It's not like that in this case. You just tie something here--" she pointed again to her bicep "--so that it helps the blood flow down to the lower arm. It's not that tight, I promise," she assured him.

"Oh," he mumbled, blushing slightly. "I didn't you were supposed to do that..."

Jenna giggled as he got a long red ribbon from the nearby sewing kit and tied it around her upper arm much too loosely, but she couldn't get him to make it any tighter. Then, he grimaced and stared in terror at the cute little butterfly needles as though it might suddenly disembowel him.

"Butterflies are the most comfortable," she repeated, and he relaxed a bit. Picking one up and removing the plastic from the tip, he asked, "Would you like me to distract you? I'm an excellent distraction." He smiled and winked at her mischievously.

She giggled again, the sound warm and melodious to the demon. "I bet you are," she teased, "but no thanks. I don't like when people try to talk to me while they're doing stuff like this. I just sort of......pretend they're not there, which I can't do if some nurse is asking me what my major is."

"Got it," nodded Crowley, pretending to zip his lips shut with his gloved fingers. Jenna smiled gratefully, then shut her eyes and turned her face away.

"You'll feel a small prick, sorry about that...." He made it sound like he was about to murder her best friend.

"Yep," she said shortly. "I know the drill."

"Oh, yeah. No talking, I don't exist. Sorry!"

She giggled once more, then inhaled sharply as the tiny sharp needle penetrated her delicate skin. Holding her breath, she imagined the blood flowing effortlessly into the syringe, like a sacred crimson river. This always helped her to relax a bit.

"There you go, all done," said Crowley softly, removing the needle and holding some bright white gauze to the exposed area. "How was that? Was it awful?"

Jenna rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated smile. "It was perfectly fine, doctor. I barely felt anything. You were very gentle," she assured him when he eyed her doubtfully.

"Hmm," he grunted suspiciously, placing a small Band Aid over the tiny wound. "I'll just have to prick myself to see if you're lying...."

"Oh yes, by all means do that," she nodded emphatically. "That sounds almost as fun as inhaling the nitrous oxide."

The demon burst out laughing, which made Jenna grin happily.

"All done?" called a rather nervous Aziraphale from the other room. "Can I come back in?"

"Almost, angel!" answered Crowley, still chuckling slightly and as he gently squeezed Jenna's rich, crimson blood into a thin glass vial. "Just gotta add the crystals!"

"Okay..." said Aziraphale uncertainly. "Remember to put the smallest ones in first! Got it?"

"Oh, no, completely forgot, whole thing's ruined..." replied Crowley monotonously, calmly doing as Aziraphale said and winking at Jenna.

"What?! You--"

"Joke, angel. It's a joke!"

"Oh......Is he joking, Miss Kingsley?" Aziraphale asked nervously, his voice rising in pitch slightly.

"Yes, he is," sighed Jenna, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at the pair. "You two are awful."

"Why, thank you, my dear," answered Crowley, grinning rogueishly and bowing with a flourish. "We do try, you know."

"Anthony J. Crowley! Stop flirting and get that vial ready!"

Crowley blushed furiously and glared in the direction of the angel's voice, wishing he could flip him off without Jenna seeing, then dropped the final snow white crystal in the vial before closing it with a cork stopper.

"It's ready, Your Royal Highness!" he sang sarcastically.

"Took you long enough," complained the angel as he waltzed back in, sitting next to Jenna and taking the vial from the demon.

"Oh, shut it you old sod," hissed Crowley, still unable to look at the woman after Aziraphale's little comment.

"Now," continued the angel briskly, holding up the book and reading it carefully, "it says here we just place it in a cool, dark area--" he set the crystal inside a small wooden box and replaced the lid-- "wait 5 minutes for the crystals to take effect, after which time your blood will change color--" he gestured to Jenna, "--either turning lighter or darker, depending on the angelic or demonic properties in your DNA."

"Cool beans!" chirped Jenna, leaning back and crossing her long legs. Crowley snickered at the perplexed expression on Aziraphale's face upon hearing one of her favorite colloquialisms for the first time.

"Pardon me?" he asked, frowning. "Why are the beans cool?"

Jenna and Crowley looked at each other blankly for a second, then both burst out laughing.

"Sorry, Zira," she gasped, touching his arm affectionately as his face grew more confused. "It's an expression, probably not used much over here. It just means, "Sounds good.'"

"Oh," said the angel, his slightly chubby pink cheeks turning light pink. "Ive never heard it before," he murmured to himself, sounding flabbergasted. "How is that possible?" he loudly demanded to know of Crowley, who was still chuckling heartily. "I am over 6,000 years old and well-versed in every human language! How is there an expression of which I was unaware until today?!"

"For the same reason you thought "LOL" was a Christian term meaning "Lord of Light" for ten years until you used it so terribly out of context at that dinner party last year I just had to tell you," answered Crowley smoothly, smirking at his friend.

Jenna shrieked with laughter as Aziraphale stammered incoherently and Crowley proceeded to tell Jenna how he managed to convince the angel that S.O.S. was a satanic cult for about three months in 1942.

"Alright, enough stories for one day," interrupted Aziraphale, looking very flustered as his friends giggled and sniggered uncontrollably. "Let's check the time, shall we?"

"We have.......30 more seconds," answered Crowley, looking at his phone.

"I'm sorry for laughing at you, Zira," said Jenna nervously, her face still flushed from laughter but no longer grinning. "We shouldn't have teased you, I hope you know you're brilliant--"

"Oh, it's fine, my dear," the angel assured her, patting her hand and smiling at her affectionately. "I can take a joke. And besides," he added, a mischievous twinkle in his baby blue eyes, "I have much worse stories about Crowley..."

"Don't you dare tell her about that!" warned the demon, his smile replaced by an angry expression that didn't quite extend to his fearful eyes as he pointed a finger at Aziraphale.

"Do I have to separate you two?" said Jenna, shaking her head. "No more embarrassing stories about each other. Period."

"Thank you," said the demon emphatically, still eyeing the angel apprehensively.

"Oh, alright," sighed Aziraphale reluctantly.

"Isn't it time?" Jenna asked Crowley.

"Oh yeah, it's a minute past. Let's check it!"

The three opened the cupboard, removed the vial and placed it in the center of the table, frowning at it as though it was a complex word problem.

"Hmm..." said the angel.

"Why is it.....green?" asked Jenna tentatively, not sure she wanted to know the answer. Her blood had changed from a deep crimson to a rich emerald, reminding her suddenly of The Wizard of Oz.

"Um......" Aziraphale hesitated. He looked at Crowley nervously, who stared back blankly. "It's, well, it means, um---"

"What, angel? Just spit it out!" demanded Crowley, nervously glancing at Jenna.

Aziraphale sighed. "Well," he began reluctantly, looking down at the open book, "if the person's blood becomes that particular shade of green, they are.....well, um, that is to say...well--"

"What is it?" cried Jenna anxiously, unable to stand the tension and longer as she gripped the sleeves of her blouse like a vice. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing, my dear!" exclaimed the angel, turning to her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with you at all! It's rather wonderful actually, being both--"

"What do you mean, 'both?'" repeated Crowley suspiciously, raising one eyebrow and crossing his arms.

Aziraphale gulped. "Well," he continued, turning back to Jenna so that he wouldn't have to see the horrified expression on Crowley's face. "It appears, my dear, that you are half angel and half--"

"Do it again," demanded Crowley, glaring at the angel. "Get a proper doctor in here to take her blood, buy some more crystals and do the test again, because this one is obviously rubbish. There's no way she's part--"

"What's so bad about being part demon?" interrupted Jenna, smiling ecstatically at them both. "This is amazing! I mean, I have no idea what this means, but--"

"It doesn't mean anything," snapped Crowley, "because the test was wrong!"

Jenna looked down and felt her lower lip tremble. She hadn't known him very long, true, but Crowley had never spoken to her so roughly before. It hurt her more than she expected, and she wasn't sure why. Looking up, she saw the pained expression on his face and desperation in his glorious topaz eyes.

"Im sorry," he murmured fervently, his eyes wide and desperate. "Please forgive me. Its just.....it can't be right. It just can't." His voice broke at the end, and she saw tears in his eyes.

"Crowley, what do you mean?" she asked softly, placing her hand over his own.

He sniffled and slowly leaned back, withdrawing his hand from her warmth reluctantly. "If you're part demon," he explained, a solitary tear rolling down his angular face, "that means I was right. I corrupted your soul. That's the only explanation--"

"It's not though!" exclaimed the angel, shaking his head and pointing at his friend. "Do you remember Azaziel and Cadmus?"

Crowley frowned and roughly wiped his tear away. "Those Bonnie and Clyde wannabes who committed all those crimes against humanity years ago?"

"Not just that, they were an angel and a demon, respectively!" cried the angel. Realization dawned on Crowley's face. "Don't you remember how both the Infernal and Celestial Courts accused them of siring offspring, but they could never prove anything because the duo took their own lives before the courts could force them to drink the Truth Serum?"

"That's true..." murmured Crowley, glancing at Jenna.

"And, shortly before Azaziel's death, she was seen leaving a baby on the doorsteps of a church? In the United States?" continued Aziraphale eagerly.

"I guess....." admitted the demon hesitantly. He paused, then scoffed. "But it can't be!" He looking and gestured toward the woman. "She's not adopted!"

"Hang on," interrupted Jenna, holding up a finger and frowning at the table top. Her other hand was on her lower abdomen as she said, "Can you repeat that, please?"

Crowley looked perplexed. "Um, you're not adopted?"

Jenna winced in pain, clutching her stomach tightly and shaking her head. "Ok, that's not true. Please say the opposite. Now, please!" she pleaded when Crowley hesitated.

"Sorry! Uh, you are adopted," he stated clearly, addressing her stomach as though it had ears.

Jenna's hand released her belly as she exhaled in relief. "Thank you," she sighed, opening her eyes. She paused and considered the significance of what had just occured. "Wait, so that means--"

"You are the offspring of Archangel Azaziel and Cadmus, Duke of Hell!" exclaimed Aziraphale loudly, watching Jenna eagerly for her reaction.

Nothing happened. Her stomach felt perfectly normal. "I don't feel anything," she said, rubbing her belly slightly. "Just in case, can you say--"

"It'll really hurt if it's not true," warned Crowley anxiously, holding up a finger.

"I don't care,"replied Jenna, shaking her head. "I'm too anxious. Just say it, please."

Both hesitated, not wanting to intentionally cause Jenna pain.

"Come on guys, you know it won't work if I do it!" she whined. "We have to know for sure! Just say it!

Aziraphale sighed, knowing his demonic friend would be unable to ever comply with her request. "Jenna Kingsley," he intoned clearly, "you are not the offspring of Archangel Azaziel and Cadmus, Duke of--"

"Ahhh!" Jenna bent over as the tightest knot she had felt yet twisted violently in her stomach, tearing her apart.

"You idiot!" Crowley kneeled next to Jenna and glared daggers at the angel. "How could you--"

"She wanted us to!" cried the angel defensively, although he winced sympathetically as Jenna cried out in severe pain again. "Jenna, you are definitely the offspring of Archangel Azaziel and Cadmus, Duke of Hell!" He said the words as fast yet as clearly as he could.

Jenna collapsed with relief into Crowley's arms, breathing heavily. "Ok, ok, you were right," she admitted to the demon. "You can say it."

"What?" asked Crowley, pulling her back so he could see her sweaty face.

"I told you so," she replied, her half-grin sending his heart into a frenzy.

He chuckled. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"Jenna," Aziraphale stated again, "you are half angel and half demon."

Jenna, still slightly doubtful, braced herself for the tight knot, but it did not appear. She opened her eyes and sat up straight in her chair, releasing Crowley and pondering her current situation.

"And finally," said the angel softly, glancing at Crowley sympathetically, "Jenna, Crowley played no role in making you a half-demon, nor did he corrupt, harm or sully you in any way."

Crowley jerked forward and grabbed this beloved, intent on absorbing the unbearable torture she would now have to endure. He would deal with the angel later.

But as he held her tightly, his face screwed up in preparation for her screams, he felt her body shake slightly and her mouth sing with laughter. Her hand began smoothing his hair gently, as though he were a child terrified of the dark.

"Crowley, I'm fine! Look, no pain," she assured him, gesturing to herself. "See? No writhing, shrieking, begging for mercy--I'm good. You can let go now," she added when he didn't move, just looked from her stomach to Aziraphale in amazement.

"Oh, right! Sorry," he stammered, quickly releasing Jenna and returning to his seat. Jenna and Aziraphale laughed at the bemused expression on his face.

"What's so funny?" he finally hissed, scowling.

"Well, I can't speak for Zira, but I'm just so glad you have definitive proof that it's not your fault," explained Jenna. "I know how it feels to think something awful is your fault, to feel like you know it is, and have that guilt eat you alive." She patted his hand and smiled sadly. "It always feels better to get perspective on it."

Crowley knew what she meant, and it stung his heart to realize that his perfect, pure, angelic Jenna Kingsley could in any way relate to his horrendous shame and self-hatred.

Before he could respond, Jenna turned back to the angel and asked, rather business-like, "so, what does this all mean, exactly?"

"Well, apparently," began Aziraphale, reading the book intently again and following along with his finger, "among other things, you are immune to both holy water and Hellfire, as well as able to create both; may have up to five angelic and five demonic powers; and have gray wings." He looked up, tilting his head and closing one eye in thought. "Plus, I suppose you are also technically royalty, since your biological mother was an archangel and your biological father a duke..."

"Wow," breathed Jenna. Her head felt like it was floating.

"Unfortunately," continued Aziraphale, closing the book and looking guilty again, "you are also in grave danger once you turn 25, as you will Evolve--er, mature--into a full Celestern--"

"Short for Celestial Infernal," interjected Crowley. "Kind of a nickname for half demon, half-angel Nephilims."

"Yes, and once you finish changing into one," continued the angel very apprehensively, "the Celestial and Infernal agents will become immediately aware of your technically illegal existence, if they are not already. Hence the...grave danger," he finished awkwardly and quietly.

Jenna blinked. "Pardon?" she asked, moving her head forward slightly. "What do you mean, 'grave danger?'"

"Well--" began the angel, but Crowley cut him off.

"You're not in any danger," he assured her, because you're with us."

Jenna smiled kindly, patted his hand and said, "Thanks, but my stomach says differently." She looked back at Aziraphale, who continued.

"By both Celestial and Infernal Law, angels and demons are not allowed to mate, let alone have offspring. They may do so with humans, technically, bit it's frowned upon. Anyway, there have been a few cases throughout history where angels and demons have sired children, but they've been, um--"

"I get it," interrupted Jenna, holding up a hand. "So, basically I'm the unholy byproduct of a psycho archangel and prince of Hell, and must therefore be put to death?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it that way, but--"

"Am I dangerous?" she asked softly, anxiously glancing between the two beings. "Do they want to kill me because I become a monster when I turn 25?"

Crowley grabbed her shoulders gently and made her face him, his face serious and stern. "Absolutely not," he answered, his beautiful eyes staring into hers. "There is nothing wrong with you, do you hear me? You are not dangerous or a monster. Okay?"

She nodded, smiling softly. "Okay, thanks."

He grinned back slightly and released her, leaning back. "The only reason they want to----well, it's because you're more powerful than them," he explained.

"More powerful than a sole angel or demon, he means," clarified Aziraphale. "Or, at least, you shall be, once you reach your 25th birthday and your powers blossom. Until then," he continued, "we will simply have to rely on your immortality to protect you, as well as--"

"What?!"

The angel and demon stared in alarm at Jenna, who had stood up so suddenly she knocked over her chair. "What did you say?" she said rather loudly.

Aziraphale gulped. "Um, did I not mention that you were immortal?"

Jenna looked at him in exasperation, shaking her head. "No," she replied rather sharply, "you neglected to mention that little factoid."

"Ah." Aziraphale didn't know what else to say, so he sat twiddling his thumbs nervously as Jenna looked from him to Crowley in horror.

"Does that mean I'll never die?" she asked in a terrified, high-pitched voice. "Or age?"

"You won't die of advanced years or illness like mortals do," Crowley finally answered, his voice somber as he stared at the table with an inscrutable expression. "Nor will you age past 25 years." 

Jenna scoffed and shook her head in disbelief, wishing for the first time she felt that torturous knot twisting in her stomach.

"What's wrong, my dear?" asked Aziraphale gently. "I thought all humans wanted--"

"Don't." Crowley held up a hand and shot his friend a stern look. "She doesn't, so just drop it."

The loudest silence in recorded history infiltrated the room as Jenna stood stock still, staring in disgust at the vial filled with Celestern blood, her blood; Aziraphale frowned at her face, perplexed at her unexpected and extreme reaction; and Crowley's face remained unreadable, a perfect poker face of how he really felt about Jenna's immortality.

Tears welled up in the young Celestern's eyes as she strode quickly out if the room, slamming the door behind her. Her companions winced at the harsh sound, but didn't follow her out. They just listened to her soft footsteps running up the staircase above them and into Aziraphale's guest room, where she collapsed onto the creaking bed and cried herself to sleep.


	12. In which Crowley and Jenna discuss immortality

Jenna was sick of crying. Sick of angels, demons, powers, blood and the color green. Sick of everything. Tired, too. So exhausted that when her empty stomach woke her up in the middle of the night with a severe growl, she almost ignored it and tried to fall back asleep.

Almost. The pangs of ravenous hunger were gnawing at her insides, making sleep literally impossible. Groaning loudly, she threw the soft covers and duvet off herself, exited Aziraphale's guest room without turning on the light and carefully crept down the creaky wooden stairs.

Still half asleep, she wandered into the kitchen, snapped the light on and was headed toward the fridge (which Aziraphale had "miraculously" filled with bread, yogurt, fruits, veggies, milk, meat and other staples upon their return from Hell) when she heard a loud thud from Aziraphale's office.

"Zira?" she whispered, hoping it was just her imagination. Another loud thud and some cursing told her it was not, nor was it the angel.

"Crowley?" asked Jenna in a normal tone, standing in the doorway of the office. The demon, who had been trying to repair a broken lamp and bronze statuette he had apparently knocked over, froze and stared at her like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.

"Oh," he said, still in hunched over the fragmented objects uncomfortably. "H-hi."

"Hi," she said awkwardly. "What are you still doing here? Why aren't you at your apar--flat?"

"Um," he stammered, finally straightening and biting his lip nervously. "I, uh, was, well, um....." His eyes flickered to an open bottle of wine sitting on the old wooden desk, half empty and very expensive-looking.

"Oh," she said, nodding. "I see. I'm sorry, carry on, I was just--"

"S-sorry if I woke you up!" he blurted, slurring his words a bit and gripping the table for support. The expression on his face was priceless, as though he had just run over her beloved cat.

She shook her head and resisted the urge to laugh. "You didn't, my stupid stomach did," she corrected him, pointing at the culprit. "I was just gonna fix myself a snack when I heard you."

He nodded, biting his lip again. "Can I join you for a bit?" he asked suddenly, after an awkward pause. "After I sober up, of course."

She narrowed her eyes. "Won't that take hours?"

"No, it won't, actually!" he exclaimed a bit too loudly. "It's actually pretty cool. Watch." Crowley screwed his face up in intense concentration, his eyes tightly shut. Jenna gasped when she heard and saw burgundy wine slowly filling up the dark bottle.

"Ah, that's better," exhaled Crowley in a low steady voice, shaking his head slightly as he stretched a bit. His eyes seemed less blurry as well as he focused on the cracked lamp and statuette before snapping his fingers and repairing them instantly.

Jenna blinked. "So, you can remove alcohol from your body at will?"

"Yep!" he said brightly. "Sure beats having a hangover." He put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight awkwardly. "Um...."

"I just want to say I'm so sorry for lashing out at you and Zira today," Jenna blurted out, her eyes wide and anxious. "I hurt others emotionally when I get upset, which I hate about myself, especially since I directed it at you two. Yet again," she added, rolling her eyes at herself. "You're both so wonderful and are doing so much for me, and I repay you by freaking out about something that should have made me happy." She took a deep breath and looked down in shame. "I'm just so sorry," she finished softly, gripping the sides of her long white pajama shirt with her fingers.

Crowley hesitated, unsure if he should keep his distance or not. Things had been a bit awkward after their impromptu kiss in Hell only 34 hours and 23 minutes ago (yes, he'd been keeping track), as neither of them had had any time to discuss it. Once Aziraphale and Jenna had safely and secretly departed Hell (Crowley stayed behind to inform the infernal agents of Hastur's whereabouts and felonies), they immediately returned to the angel's bookshop, where Jenna had remained for almost two days.

Exhausted after her harrowing misadventures, she collapsed on Aziraphale's quaint guest room bed and slept for 12 hours. When she woke up, she took a long shower during which she scoured her aching body of the foul smells from her time in Hell. Feeling relaxed and very clean, Jenna then changed into the new outfit that Aziraphale had miracled up for her: an elegant white blouse with long sheer sleeves and flowing black dress pants (a bit fancy for her tastes, but very lovely) and joined the angel downstairs for tea.

Crowley only returned to Soho an hour before they tested Jenna's blood, during which he collapsed onto the couch and complained loudly about Hell's frustrating bureaucracy. He knew he should have immediately taken Jenna aside so they could discuss what had occured, but the truth was he was terrified.

She had kissed him back, fulfilling his wildest dreams with one soft embrace. That was where they left things. And he was terrified to broach the topic because he knew in his blackened little heart that she could never love him, and there would be no more sweet kisses. Only silence as she happily lived her life far apart from him, and he begged for death with every passing second.

Putting his fear aside, a deeper fear than he had ever known, Crowley carefully approached his distressed beloved, who was now crying quietly in the doorway, long arms wrapped around her body. Once he was less than a foot away, Crowley put his arms gently on her shaking shoulders.

"Hey," he said softly, "can you look at me for a second?"

Sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve, Jenna slowly raised her face and her puffy red eyes met his mesmirizing golden ones.

"You are, without a doubt, the most caring, compassionate and conscientious person I have ever met," he said emphatically, his eyes boring deeply into hers. "I know you feel guilty constantly, and I know you worry a lot about hurting others. But you have been nothing but kind, generous and patient with us, Jenna." Her lower lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears again. "You have no reason to apologize to us, least of all because of today," he finished, gently rubbing her right shoulder

Jenna let out a soft sob and hugged Crowley around the middle, burying her face in his chest and letting her tears flow freely. Instinctively, Crowley wrapped his long arms around her body in a warm embrace, cradling her head with his left hand.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's okay," whispered the demon as she pressed her face into his chest. "It's alright, everything is okay. It's okay to cry."

"I don't d-deserve im-mortality," she cried as Crowley lightly brushed her long hair with his warm hand. "Why couldn't she have been immortal? Why did she have to die? It should have been me who--who--" Words failed her as vicious sobs forced their way out of her mouth.

"Come on, let's go in here," said Crowley in a low voice, keeping a tight arm around Jenna as he led her to the sitting room, where he gently placed her and himself on the couch. He then snapped his fingers and a luxuriously fluffy blanket appeared on Jenna's legs. He then embraced her once more after she burrowed into his chest, her sobs abating a bit.

"She was gonna go to rehab again, you know?" Jenna sniffled, picking at the blanket as Crowley pulled it up to cover her shoulders. "She was gonna get better, this was her chance! And then she just---" Pitiful cries of repressed grief wracked her shaking body once again.

Crowley said nothing, just gently rocked her back and forth on the couch and rubbed her back very soothingly.

"I promised her I would see her again," she continued, clutching his shirt tightly. Her bleary eyes were desperate and wide as she looked up at the demon. "I promised her, Crowley! And now.....I'll never see her again. It'll just be me, all alone, for eternity, knowing that it should have been me."

"Oh, darling," whispered Crowley, smoothing her hair lovingly and holding her closer as she buried her face in his shirt again. "I know you've felt that way since she died, but it wasn't your fault. You were just a child, and couldn't have saved her even if your healing powers had emerged back then. I know you hate hearing this, but.....it was just her time."

Jenna's face jerked up and she looked at him anxiously. "But it couldn't have been! Mom was going to rehab the next day, she had so much left to accomplish!"

"I know," said the demon, gently nodding. "I know it looks that way to us, but God.....well, She sees things differently. The whole picture, I guess. What seems irrational, even cruel and horrifying to us, is actually part of a beautiful, intricate tapestry, the whole of which only She sees." His eyes glazed over and his face fell slightly; Jenna wondered what he was thinking about.

"Have you met Her?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

He smiled slightly, then cocked his head thoughtfully. "Not the way humans meet things, no," he finally answered, choosing his words carefully, "but, I suppose in a cosmic, celestial sort of way--yes, you could say I've met Her."

"Did She tell you those things? About how all the awful stuff that happens is part of a bigger, brighter picture?" Her eyes were anxiously searching his for answers he wished he had.

He shook his head, smiling sadly. "It doesn't work like that," he explained gently. Jenna's eyes filled with disappointed. "She's not nearly that straightforward. God communicates more in......feelings, sensations, signs, rather than direct words."

Jenna nodded, resting her cheek on Crowley's chest and listening to his strong heartbeat. "I know you're right," she admitted softly, feeling a bit sleepy. "And that She's right. I just---I just miss her so much, and feel so guilty for still living, all the time....."

"I know," repeated the demon, gazing down at her with love and sympathy. "I know you do. I've, uh, actually tried to miracle that away from you," he confessed, scratching the back of his neck, "but it obviously never worked."

Jenna pressed her hands against his chest so that she could lean back slightly and look into his slightly glowing eyes. "Is that true?" she whispered, her eyebrows raised in shick. "Did you really do that for me?"

His mesmerizing golden orbs gazed intensely into her blue/green eyes as he said fervently, "I would have done much more than that, if I could. I wanted to make it so that you never suffered, only felt joy and contentment." His right hand gently caressed her cheek. "I would do anything for you."

Jenna knew he wanted to kiss her, and the truth is so did she. But this was a lot all at once, so she looked back down, blushing furiously as she gently moved away from Crowley a bit on the couch.

"Oh, G-, S-, fuck it I'm sorry," he stammered, the distraught evident on his mortified face. "I shouldn't have said--"

"Shhhh," she interrupted, placing a finger on his lips and smiling. He stopped talking and stared at her in confusion. "That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me," she confessed, "and I must admit that I am quite flattered, among other things, by your feelings for me. I am starting to feel something for you, too.....but I'm not where you're at," she reminded him, looking away shyly as she removed her finger and placed her hand in her lap. "I don't feel the intensity that you do. So, it's both wonderful and a bit....overwhelming....to hear you say things like that." She looked back at him hesitantly. "Please don't take this the wrong way. I really want to get to know you more....just, this is a bit much for me."

Crowley, whose internal devil had begun jumping up and down and shouting with childish glee when Jenna said "I am starting to feel something too," immediately and sincerely responded, "Of course, I completely understand. Thank you so much for telling me, the last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable." Jenna smiled. "Ill stop saying stuff like that. I totally get it. And in regards to--well, what I mean is, um--"

"Can we just, kind of, play it by ear?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, I really like you--" at this Crowley's devil began running around his head, screaming "SHE LOVES ME! SHE LOVES ME!" at the top of its tiny lungs, which was both distracting and disconcerting for the demon "--but there's so much going on right now that I can't even think about dating, or romance, or anything." She looked apologetic, anxious and very nervous as she asked, "Is that okay?"

Crowley, whose head was now silent as he had enlisted his internal angel to tackle and successfully incapacitate his rogue devil, had been able to listen very carefully to her words, and responded accordingly.

"First of all," he said firmly, his expression almost stern as he counted off his fingers, "the only person whose opinion matters here is yours. What I, or anyone else for that matter, think about your needs, wants and choices doesn't matter in the slightest. Promise me you'll never tell a guy what you need or want and then ask if that's ok, cuz guys are the worst and you are the best."

Jenna giggled in spite of herself, nodding. "I promise."

"Good," he said, trying not to smile so as to maintain his serious expression but failing miserably. "Second of all," he continued, counting down another finger, "I never even expected to meet you in person, let alone be able to spend time with you in any capacity." He adjusted on the couch so that they were facing each other directly. "Meaning that I am not expecting or anticipating anything. An-y-thing. I promise," he said emphatically, with 100% honesty and sincerity.

Jenna blushed and smiled, her body warm with safety and tingly with something else, something strange but not unpleasant.

"Aaaaaand third of all," said Crowley dramatically, making Jenna giggle again, "the only thing you should focus on right now is caring for yourself during this transitional time. You and your world are changing in so many ways, I'm surprised you have the energy to even talk to me right now!"

Jenna's stomach growled loudly and uncomfortably again. "Speaking of which," said Jenna, placing a hand on her belly, "I'm kinda running low on energy right now. Mind if I grab a snack?"

Crowley smiled and helped her up, placing the blanket around her shoulders. "Not at all, that sounds good," he said. He hesitated, then asked tentatively, "Um, do you mind if I stick around and annoy you a bit more? I just wanted to share some insights about immortality that might make it seem less.......awful," he finished, biting his lip nervously. "But if you'd prefer, I could go and just--"

"No, of course! Let's go, I'd love to hear a real immortal's perspective on immortality!" She grinned broadly and motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen. With a glance behind him, Crowley snapped his fingers to close up Aziraphale's office before hurrying after Jenna like a lost puppy.

When they were seated at the table, her eating strawberry yogurt and purple grapes and him nursing a glass of water, he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head self-consciously.

"So, I know why you in particular don't want to live forever," he began, taking a sip of water. "And I wish I could actually do something about that. I mean, other than saying stupid platitudes like "It was her time!" and "It's not your fault!", which are about as helpful as that imp at the Infernal Agency who kept telling me to take a number."

Jenna laughed. "Anyway," he continued, "I also know why people in general don't want to live forever. Well, the smart people at least. I mean, hell, after my first two thousand years I wanted to blow my brains out!"

"Really?" asked Jenna, frowning and popping a grape into her mouth. "Not sooner?"

"Nah, time's different for us," he waved his hand casually. "Beings not raised on Earth, I mean. Humans have such short lives, they developed this weird conception of time where--well, you know," he mumbled embarrassedly. "But my point is, years to you are like seconds to us. Just a blink of an eye. Thats what kept me from getting bored until 600 BC."

"Why?" she asked curiously, taking another bite of yogurt.

Crowley shrugged and shook his head. "There just wasn't much going on."

"Ah." She offered him a grape, which he accepted and popped into his mouth.

"Anyway, back to immortality. Once I did get bored, and later quite severely depressed, the only thing that helped was having someone else who could relate."

"Hastur?" offered Jenna with a smug grin.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Oh please, he practically invented boredom and depression for his own amusement. Plus, he still doesn't know what a computer is."

Jenna nodded. "Sounds about right."

"Doesn't it though?" he exclaimed, as though shocked at how much sense it made.

"Ok, serious guess: Zira?"

Crowley smiled indulgently at her. "What a little genius you are," he teased, making her giggle again.

"Yeah," he continued in a normal voice, "we didn't hang out that much at first, but sometime after Christ came and went, we ran into each other again in Rome. I was in a foul mood, drinking enough to kill ten men, when Angel stopped by and invited me to join him for oysters, of all things." He chuckled and shook his head at the memory. "We talked about how hard it was, just continuously......existing. Especially when everything around us was coming and going constantly." He paused, his expression solemn. "Everything and everyone was always......changing, while we stayed the same: a miracle-doing, wile-thwarting angel and a lazy, stupid, selfish demon." He glowered at the floor.

Jenna gently put a hand on his shoulder. "You're not those things, Crowley," she said softly, her eyes sympathetic.

He smiled slightly at her and patted her hand. "I am," he assured her, "but at least I'm not depressed anymore, thanks to Angel. We got together rather regularly after that. Secretly, of course," he added hastily, "given that one of us was officially supposed to have vanquished the other millennia ago. He never had any particular insights or advice regarding how to embrace our immortality, but just having a friend who understood and experienced the world like I did made all the difference."

Jenna smiled. "Wow," she sighed. "That's so wonderful."

He nodded. "It is. So, I guess what I'm really saying is that you're not alone, there's actually more than twenty thousand other beings on, above or below Earth who will never grow old or die of old age. Most of them being angels and demons, obviously, but there's others if you don't get on with our kind. Most of us are pretty rubbish anyway," he admitted.

"By "us," do you mean angels or demons?"

"Honestly? Both."

Jenna laughed. "Well, good thing I got the two best apples in the bunch then," she said, smiling sweetly at Crowley, who blushed furiously and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh! Well, yeah, I mean, Aziraphale and I....yeah, we'll always be here," he said, concerned etched on his tanned, angular face, "but, I mean, you don't have to stick around with us if you don't want to....."

"Oh," Jenna said, looking crestfallen and mortified. "Of course, I'm so sorry. Yeah, you two have been friends forever--you don't need some random girl coming in and---"

"Nonono!" cried the demon. "That's not what I meant at all! We love having you around. I just meant that you shouldn't feel like you have to hang around us old fogies, like you owe us or anything. The world is your oyster," he assured her. She nodded, but still looked a bit uncertain so he added, "For the record, Aziraphale adores you! Keeps blabbering on about getting you a spacious flat in town and filling it with books for you to read!"

Jenna giggled, but her smile quickly faded. "Wait, seriously?" she asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, I won't let him. And I--well, you know how I feel so.....anyway, there's nothing we would love more than to spend eternity with you," he assured her vehemently. Especially me, he thought.

Jenna grinned and tilted her head sweetly. "Crowley, I just can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me. Especially tonight." She placed her hand over his large warm one resting on the table, causing the demon to blush brilliantly yet again. "Talking like this has really helped me feel better about everything. Immortality, the last few days, even Mom," she confessed, sounding slightly surprised.

"Really?" Crowley asked hopefully, gently taking her hand in his.

Jenna nodded, still smiling happily. "Really. Thank you for everything, you've been extremely patient, gentlemanly and nice--oh crap! Sorry! Ugh," she groaned, putting her hands over her face.

"What?" asked Crowley, very alarmed. "What is it?"

She sighed wearily and put her hands down, revealing an apologetic look. "Zira told me not to say any positive four-letter words to, about or near you," she explained, biting her lip. "I'm sorry."

Crowley laughed heartily, which made Jenna feel more at ease. "That's hilarious," he gasped after a minute, wiping his eyes with a spindly finger. "Well, I guess I deserve that, after jumping down his throat one too many times for calling me a good person. Ugh," he groaned, saying "good" like it was an insult and looking disgusted.

Jenna giggled, forcing his expression to lighten considerably. "That makes sense," she validated. "I'm sorry, let me rephrase my faux pas: You have been extremely impatient, ungentlemanly and cruel. Downright cruel and.....despicable," she added for good measure.

Crowley burst out laughing, so loud that she was worried he'd wake Aziraphale. Then, she remembered he and the demon didn't need to sleep and that the angel in particular very rarely partook in this human activity, which made her feel quite stupid.

"No, I was just kidding," he assured her, still chuckling a bit. "I used to sorta hate being called those things, but I don't really care anymore." He paused, considered not saying the following and then thinking, 'screw it': "In fact, you can call me whatever you want."

Jenna raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes in mock surprise. "Really.....well, I'll keep that in mind, Anthony J. Crowley." She smirked playfully at the demon, who felt an electric thrill of excitement shoot through his body when she said his full name.

"You do that, Jenna Isadora Kingsley," he responded in turn, grinning mischievously, his golden eyes twinkling.

Jenna yawned. "I'm exhausted," she admitted.

"Yeah, you should go to bed," he agreed, his tone and expression serious once again as he glanced at the grandfather clock. "Is it really 2:45am?" I'm sorry to keep you up so late, Jenna--"

"No, it's fine," she yawned again, waving his apology off like an annoying fly. "This was great, and now that I'm properly sedated with food and reassurance I'll sleep like a baby."

"Good," he said emphatically. He paused. "Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Crowley," she called softly as she began walking upstairs. "Sweet dreams."

The demon froze at these words and stared blankly at the floor as she disappeared upstairs. No one except Aziraphale had ever wished him sweet dreams, at least not seriously (another demon named Goghsa said it to him once as he injected him with some kind of anesthetic, effectively knocking him out for a few hours while Goghsa ransacked his flat, stole all his toothpicks and drew a mustache on his upper lip in black Sharpie), so the sentiment felt strange.

He continued to mentally hear her voice calling, "Sweet dreams" to him as he exited and locked up the bookshop, got into his patient Bentley and sped away.

Crowley smiled to himself, and hoped she'd say it again to him tomorrow.


	13. In which Jenna is in danger (again)

"Hey, Crowley? Sorry, but can you get that book for me?" Jenna pointed to a delicate-looking ivory novel about two feet above her head on the bookshelf.

"Sure," answered the demon from the couch, setting down his Infernal Times. He lifted his fingers to snap them, but then got an idea. As smoothly as possible, he got up, swaggered over to where Jenna stood and casually reached up toward the book, stretching his long body as far as it would go before grabbing and handed the rather light book to her with a grin.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, smiling sweetly and returning to the comfy armchair to read.

He nodded, feeling strangely confident and proud of himself as he sauntered back to the couch. Sitting down, he watched her grin affectionately at the novel before opening and beginning to read the first page.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, draping his lanky left arm over the back of the couch as he turned to face her, "but what book is that, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, it's Northanger Abbey," she informed him, holding it up to reveal an old cover with intricate letters. "It's probably my favorite Jane Austen novel. Most people love Pride and Prejudice the most, but I think this is her best work." Jenna gazed at it fondly, like a doting mother admiring her newborn baby.

Crowley frowned. "Isn't Pride and Prejudice the one where they hate each other, but still get together in the end?"

Jenna's laugh warmed his blood as he rested his head on his left hand. "Sort of," she conceded, "although Darcy never really hates Elizabeth; it's more the other way around. But, basically yeah. They start out disliking or misunderstanding each other, but end up madly in love."

"Hmmm," said the demon, his face thoughtful. "Honestly, it sounds like a pretty stereotypical rom-com," he admitted with a chuckle, then froze in terror. Why the FUCK did he just say that? What if she actually liked the novel?

But he relaxed when Jenna nodded and grinned. "Oh, it totally is, but for good reason. People say she kind of invented the formula for romantic comedies. It wasn't really a genre before her time."

"Really?" said Crowley, raising his eyebrows. "Wow, I didn't know......did you learn that from Angel?"

"Actually," replied Jenna, crossing her legs and turning her body toward the demon, "I learned it at school, although when I asked Zira if it was true he did confirm it. A few years ago," she explained, "I took a college course all about Jane Austen wherein we read her six published novels, then compared them to film adaptations of said works. It was really amazing," she continued, smiling at the memory. "I didn't know how complex and feminist her writing was until reading and discussing each novel. She was really ahead of her time, in many ways."

Jenna suddenly stopped and blushed. "Ugh, I'm sorry," she groaned, smiling sheepishly at Crowley. "I'm rambling. I'm such a nerd about this stuff. You can just cut me off if I won't stop talking about books."

Crowley, who had been watching her intently and smiling as she spoke, shook his head and frowned. "No, you're not rambling!" He assured her vehemently. "This is really cool! I don't even think Angel knows any of this stuff....and he loves romantic comedies!" He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

Jenna laughed. "I know. We talked a lot about Austen's novels, and later our favorite rom-coms, the day after we met. We were actually planning on watching The Holiday tonight, if you wanted to join us," she offered, "but you don't have to. I mean, it's pretty corny," she admitted.

Crowley grinned broadly at her and said, doing his best Nicole Kidman impression,"'I like corny. I'm looking for more corny in my life.'"

Jenna's eyebrows raised and her mouth opened in a surprised smile. "That's funny! So, you've seen it then?"

Crowley shrugged. "I may have viewed it once or twice," he admitted playfully. "But don't tell anyone," he added in a fake-serious tone, pointing at her warningly. "I don't want it to ruin my street cred."

Jenna giggled. "Your secret's safe with me, demon," she replied.

"I appreciate that," he chuckled, grinning. "And, in regards to your kind invitation, I would love to join you and Aziraphale for a night of corny romance." As soon as he said the last two words, he paled, cleared his throat roughly and shoved the paper in front of his face so she couldn't see him blushing like a tomato. "Or, yeah, whatever," he growled, trying to sound masculine and inwardly cursing himself for saying such stupid things.

Jenna stifled a laugh behind her hand and said, "Great, I'll tell Zira," before returning to her book. Once Crowley had calmed down a bit, he glanced at the Celestern out of the corner of his eye as she read calmly, her face very focused, curious and beautiful. He smiled lovingly, and then tried to concentrate on the article he'd started earlier, something about vampiric janitorial workers unionizing in Pandemonium.

"CROWLEY?! JENNA?! Where are y--oh, thank God, there you both are!!" Aziraphale ran into the sitting room, panting and clutching his chest. Crowley and Jenna rushed over to examine the angel, who looked exceedingly disheveled and agitated with his vest buttoned incorrectly, shirt untucked, eyes wild and hair unbrushed.

"What's up, Angel?" asked the bewildered demon with a frown as Jenna gently touched his arm.

"We need to get you out of here," gasped Aziraphale, staring seriously at Jenna. "Immediately."

"What? Why?" asked Jenna. "I thought I was safe here! No one in Heaven knows about me, and Hastur's serving time in Hell's prison, so--"

"He told his superiors about you," he confessed, glancing painfully at Crowley. "Apparently, Hastur was suspicious regarding your humanity, and during his trial expressed his concerns to Lord Beelzebub."

Jenna gasped. "Wait, Lord Beezlebub--you mean the devil, right?" she asked in a hushed, horrified tone.

"No," replied Crowley, who looked as though he were about to vomit. "Lord Beezlebub is a Prince of Hell, not Satan. If Lucifer himself knew--" Unable to finish, he just cringed and swore loudly, kicking the couch before sitting aggressively in a stiff wooden chair.

"Lord Beezlebub has sent infernal agents to spy on and abduct you once you display indesputable signs of your....uniqueness," continued Aziraphale, ignoring the distraught demon and focusing on Jenna. He put his hands on her shoulders. "I know this because Heaven is now aware of you as well, my dear. Apparently, Lord Beezlebub informed certain archangels of the situation, as the existence of half demon, half angel Nephilim threatens both realms. In roughly," he glanced hurriedly at his wrist," 15 minutes, Archangel Gabriel will arrive to conduct the blood test we did before, which will inevitably reveal your parentage."

"Fuck!" Crowley swore again, his head bowed and buried in his hands. "Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck Hastur and that asshole Gabriel for once again screwing everything good for their own selfish purposes!"

Jenna gulped. "Ok," she said shakily, trying to breathe but finding it difficult. "Ok, ok, ok. So, what should we do?'

"You need to go to Crowley's flat immediately, and remain hidden there until after your 25th birthday," answered the angel, "whereupon you will have fully evolved into an extraordinarily powerful Celestern capable of defending herself (with our help, of course) from the forces of Heaven and Hell."

Crowley's head popped back up like an alarmed meerkat on patrol, his eyes trained on the angel in utter shock.

"What?!" he yelped, turning bright red. "Why the fuck--"

"Because she has to stay with one of us for protection," explained the angel exasperatedly, "and your flat is much more secure and secluded than my shop. And no," he added sternly as Crowley tried to angrily interrupt, "I can't set up the protection at her hotel, so it's your flat or nothing, Crowley."

Crowley responded with nonsensical, aggressive stammers and hand gestures, but Aziraphale ignored him. "I've already miracled your things there," he continued to Jenna, who looked perplexed, "and I placed an extremely powerful Concealment Aura around and in the flat. This will ensure that no one other than Crowley, you or I know that you are there or can enter the premises." He removed his hands from Jenna's shoulders and strode over to the window, out of which he looked up at the sky nervously.

"Wait," said Jenna as Crowley tried to process what was happening, "you mean we need to hide in Crowley's flat for the next, like, 4 months?"

"Actually," said the angel tentatively in a high voice as he closed the blinds, grabbed Crowley's jacket and threw it at him rather haphazardly, "it would look too suspicious if I suddenly disappeared from my shop, so I won't be joining you two." He glanced at them rather sheepishly as he continued bolting doors and locking windows, apparently forgetting he could do it with magic.

"EXCUSE ME?!" thundered Crowley, grabbing the angel by his shirt collar and glaring at him. "Am I to understand that you, an angel, are suggesting that she, an innocent woman--" he pointed aggressively at Jenna without looking away from Aziraphale, "--live and sleep in the same space as me, a vile, deplorable demon?!" His eyes were burning red and he was shaking violently.

To Crowley's surprise, the angel glared angrily back at and pushed him away roughly. "Join me in the back for a precisely 5-minute conversation," he said curtly to his friend, who looked a bit shocked at Aziraphale's assertiveness. "Please excuse us, Miss Kingsley."

She watched as, this time, Aziraphale dragged Crowley into the back room, wondering once again if she was losing her mind.

"What the hell are you thinking?" hissed Crowley once they were in the kitchen with the door closed. "This is the exact situation I can't be in!"

"What are you talking about, Crowley?!" cried Aziraphale exasperatedly, holding his hands out to him. "I don't understand! Please, just tell me!"

Crowley sighed and wondered how to phrase it. "And please keep in mind that Gabriel will be here in exactly 12 minutes and 34 seconds," added the angel when his friend didn't immediately begin speaking.

The demon glared at him. "Alright! Alright! Fine! Fucking Gabriel," he added under his breath, then inhaled deeply. "What I'm talking about is, I can hardly control myself around her now, when you're always here and I get to leave and clear my head every night. If she lived with me, I......it just wouldn't work."

"Why?" prompted the angel curiously, genuinely wanting to understand.

Crowley looked away, released a sigh of frustration and ran his long fingers through his fiery orange hair before muttering, "I've never felt this way before. I don't know how to control these new feelings like I do anger, or curiosity, or impulsivity." He glanced up shyly at Aziraphale. "I'm scared that the feelings--fine, the....lust--will get so intense, so.....uncontrollable, like anger was at first, that I--" He bit his lip and covered his eyes with his hand. He had spat out "lust" reluctantly, like it was a deeply offensive racial epithet.

"Crowley," said Aziraphale firmly, placing his hand on his best friend's shoulder. The demon looked at him, his golden eyes filled with guilt and terror. "I know you. I've known you for 6,000 years. When you let that anger consume you during in Mesopotamia, you were a different person. Er, demon," he corrected himself. "You--well, frankly none of us--had ever felt overwhelming emotions until about that time. You've had so much experience with them since! Grief, terror, guilt, shame, excitement, euphoria--even love," he added with a small smile. "Besides, your anger during the Great Flood is what motivated you to save those children, which was quite heroic, seeing as doing so directly opposed the Divine Plan."

Crowley looked at him, frustrated. "This is different. What can lust help me do--"

"We don't have much time," interrupted the angel, glancing anxiously at his watch again, "we can discuss this further via telephone tonight, but every emotion was created by God, Crowley. Hell likes to think it invented the Seven Deadly Sins, but it didn't, and none of them are sins in and of themselves." He gripped Crowley's shoulders. "Trust me, if I had even the slightest fear that you would harm or distress her in any way, shape or form, I would not have allowed you two to meet in the first place, let alone live together for 4 months. I trust you Crowley," he said sincerely, "and I trust Miss Kingsley. But most importantly, I trust that this is all part of the Divine Plan, and that God will show you what to do."

Crowley nodded in spite of himself, remembering how She had spoked to him years ago when he last prayed. A flicker of hope ignored in his chest. Perhaps She would show him how to deal with these damned urges without doing anything horrific or going insane.

"Ok, come on. It's been more than 5 minutes," said Aziraphale briskly, leading them back into the sitting room. When they entered, Jenna hurried over to them and said shakily, "The sky suddenly turned gray, and I don't see any people outside. What does that mean?"

Aziraphale paled. "He's almost here," he murmured, then guided Jenna and Crowley so that they stood together in the center of the room. "Alright, now hold each other's hands. I'm going to miracle you there under my protection, so that no one sees you during your inter-dimensional transition," he explained.

Crowley nodded calmly, but Jenna just stared at Aziraphale, perplexed and full of questions. "Wait, can't we just--"

"There's no time, my dear!" cried the angel anxiously as a vicious wind began to howl outside. "I am so very sorry, but we will talk later tonight, I promise!"

"On the phone," Crowley clarified to her, looking very awkward and embarrassed. "Erm, may I, uh--" he held his hands out to her, palms up, looking anywhere but her. Jenna stared up at him for a moment, then sighed and placed her delicate hands in his. They were freezing compared to his, which are always toasty warm.

"Thank you," exhaled the angel. He then spoke in a language and accent she did not understand, and a soft yellow light engulfed the demon and Celestern. The last thing she saw before everything went momentarily black was Aziraphale smiling sadly, tears rolling down his cheeks as he placed a hand over his heart and waved goodbye.


	14. In which Jenna moves in with Crowley (but not like that)

After a few seconds during which she and Crowley were shrouded in pitch black darkness, the warm yellow light engulfed them again, illuminating their pensive faces. Jenna closed her eyes and savoured its warmth, which disappeared all too quickly.

She opened her eyes and saw that the heavenly glow was gone, as was Aziraphale's bookshop. In its place was a large, brooding foyer with a healthy green ficus in the corner by the tall black door.

"Are you okay?" Crowley asked Jenna softly, peering into her eyes and squeezing her hands slightly.

Jenna nodded, glancing up at him. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, smiling weakly and pulling her hands out of his sweaty ones. "Thanks."

Crowley nodded, watching her intently as she rotated slowly around the foyer.

"I forgot what your flat looked like," she said monotonously. "It's nice."

"Thanks." They stood awkwardly for a few moments, during which he finally noticed how sweaty his hands were and wiped them roughly on his pant legs, blushing furiously. 

"Um," Jenna said, breaking the silence, "so--"

"I'm really sorry about this," blurted the demon, gesturing anxiously with his hands and looking apprehensively at her. "I know it's extremely weird, and you don't want to be here--I mean, why would you--and, well, I don't agree with how sudden it all was, or the whole "you-can't-leave-for-4-months" thing, which makes you kind of like a---well, we'll sort out everything out with Aziraphale tonight, after Gabriel leaves." He said this all very quickly, tripping over his words and spitting the archangel's name out distastefully.

"I just--don't want you to feel uncomfortable, or.....trapped," he continued with a pained expression in his golden eyes. "I guess there's no way you won't now, but...." He took a deep breath and looked deeply into her eyes with a very serious, solemn expression. "I promise that I will do anything to make things feel safe, comfortable and at least, you know...bearable....for you," he finished in a sincere, heartfelt tone.

Jenna smiled more freely this time. "Thank you, Crowley," she said softly. "I really appreciate that, and you." She sighed. "I'm sorry for being---it's not that I don't like you--I've just, you know," she stammered, looking away awkwardly. "Never lived alone with a guy before," she murmured, staring at her tennis shoes and playing with her fingers.

Crowley coughed, blushed a deep red and scratched the back of his head. "I know," he replied, suddenly finding his shiny black boots quite fascinating as well.

"Well, I guess I stayed at Zira's," admitted Jenna, trying to be fair, "but this just feels.....different." 

"Yeah. I know."

Jenna tentatively looked back up at Crowley, and saw the painful mix of emotions on his handsome face: sadness, inner conflict, apprehension, anxiety, embarrassment, even fear. He's afraid? she thought curiously. Why is he scared?

She had no idea, but seeing him so vulnerable made her feel better. Safer.

Jenna smiled gently, walked up to Crowley and peered into his distressed face. "It's okay, Crowley," she said softly, taking his hand in hers. "I'm okay. I know I'm safe here, and I really appreciate you letting me stay here for such a long time. You're a great friend." She squeezed his hand, and the demon coughed and blushed tomato red again.

"S'nothing," he muttered, putting his other hand in his pocket and examining his left shoe.

"Oh, it's so not!" argued Jenna vehemently. "You're letting me stay in your flat for 4 freaking months--that's a huge sacrifice! Plus," she added animatedly, holding up a finger, "let's not forget that I'm an illegal Celestern for whom Heaven and Hell are currently hunting, which means you're harboring a very wanted criminal."

In spite of himself, Crowley chuckled a bit at her words. "I guess I'd better watch myself then," he teased, tilting his head to the right and wearing that strange expression.

"You do that, mister." Jenna poked him in the chest and they both burst out laughing.

"Seriously, though," said Jenna once they'd calmed down. "Thank you for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it."

"That's kind of you, but it really is nothing," Crowley assured her. "I mean, it's a pretty big place, probably better suited for four or five than just me anyway. Plus," he added, his eyes twinkling, "there's a flat screen TV in every guest room--streaming, so you get Netflix, HBO, Hulu, Amazon Prime, YouTube, all the essentials."

"Wow," grinned Jenna, placing her hands on her hips and looking up at the demon. "That sounds amazing."

Crowley grinned broadly. "Come on, I'll give you the tour," he said, gesturing for her to finally depart the foyer first.

~

"So, this is the biggest guest room," said Crowley, opening the door to reveal a dark, opulent room with a foreboding four-poster bed, an intricate crimson rug that was probably ancient, silky obsidian curtains and a walk-in closet, "but honestly, this one over here is probably the best." He then led Jenna to a smaller but much lighter, friendlier room. It had a queen-size bed with plush white sheets, an armchair in the corner and lots of natural light from the huge windows overlooking a small, green park, wherein tiny children were laughing and playing tag.

Jenna smiled to herself as she examined the room, absorbing its light blue walls, incredibly soft eggshell white carpet and thin lavender curtains, which swayed gently from the breeze outside. "It's so beautiful," she sighed, turning to Crowley. "I mean, truly they all are, but, yeah, I think this one's my favorite guest room."

Crowley grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that," he confessed, "because its also the most comfortable."

Jenna raised her eyebrows. "Have you slept in every guest room?" she asked curiously.

Crowley scoffed and waved his hand. "I've slept in every room of this place more times than I could count. That's what happens when you have the same flat for 60 years."

Jenna laughed. "That makes sense. I didn't know you've had it since the....60s?"

"Yep, since 1962. It was a lot smaller then," he confessed thoughtfully, "I must have added at least 75% of it myself. With magic," he clarified when she looked a bit confused.

"Oh yeah, that," replied Jenna sarcastically, rolling her eyes and blushing at her confusion. "Im so stupid, why do I keep forgetting that's how you two do things?"

"You're not stupid," argued Crowley, "and why wouldn't you? It's not like you grew up around occult beings!"

"Mmm..." she said noncommittally, sitting on the edge of the comfy bed and looking down.

"The good thing is," added Crowley, trying to cheer her up a bit, "that you'll have your own powers soon, and then you'll never forget!"

She smiled a bit, then looked up at him curiously. "When will I get my powers?"

"Well, Angel said the rest will gradually emerge over the next four months--I guess 5 angelic and 5 demonic," he explained thoughtfully, placing himself in the armchair facing her.

"Yeah, ok," she said nervously. They sat in silence for a moment before Crowley got up and said, "I'll leave you alone now, thanks for letting me show you the place. I'll snap your things in here from the living room."

Jenna smiled, standing as well. "Thank you, Crowley. I love your flat, it's so spacious and gorgeous." He shrugged and blushed slightly. "I especially love your plant room. I enjoy taking care of plants as well, especially flowers," she confessed.

Crowley smiled affectionately at her. "Yeah, I know. You used to plant them every spring." Both of them blushed and looked away at his accidental reminder of how well he actually knew her.

Feeling guilty for bringing it up, the demon cleared his throat and stammered, "I could, um, get you some flowers if you wanted to, you know, care for them---I mean I don't have a garden, unfortunately, but--"

"That would be great!" Jenna said happily, smiling sweetly at him. "Thank you so much! Maybe I could use a window box?" she offered.

"Yeah, and place them there!" exclaimed Crowley much more eagerly than he wanted to sound, pointing excitedly at Jenna's wide window sill. He cleared his throat and added in a low, non-committal tone, "Or, you know, whatever."

Jenna stifled a giggle and replied, "Well, that would be great. Thank you."

"Sure. Just let me know what you want and I'll get it for you," he grinned, snapping his fingers demonstratively.

"I will, thanks."

Another awkward pause, then: "Ok, well, I'll get out of your hair. Angel got all your stuff from the hotel apparently, as well as checked you out early. They were pretty tetchy," he continued with an amused expression, "but he still got you a refund for the weeks you won't be staying there."

"Oh!" Jenna exclaimed, suddenly distressed for some reason. "That's really nice of him, but it wasn't my money!" she explained anxiously, worry and guilt evident on her paling face. "I won this trip, you see--all-expenses paid, though I'm still not sure how--and the only conditions were that I couldn't exchange the getaway for cash, and if I left early, I forfeit any remaining money...."

"Oh," said the demon, biting his lip, his eyes concerned as well. Not because of the money--he literally could not care less about receiving money that he didn't earn, methodology aside (luck, accident, theft, etc). He just knew that Jenna, with her extremely sensitive conscience and self-blaming nature, would obsess over it until it was returned. "I guess you could, um.... return it to the group that gave it to you?" He suggested hopefully.

Jenna shook her head. "That's just it. I tried calling the organization, Shepherd Inc., a few weeks ago to clarify the itinerary, but it said the number was no longer in service! I would have cancelled the trip at that point--I mean, how suspicious is that?--but Mel said it was probably just a temporary thing, so I didnt. But I've tried calling every day since," she continued, her voice rising in pitch and hysteria, "and it still won't work! I have no way to contact them, let alone return their money!" Jenna bit her lip and wrung her hands distractedly as her nervous eyes stared at the floor.

"Ah, I see," said Crowley, trying to sound calm to soothe Jenna but feeling very annoyed at Shepherd, Inc. for causing her such distrrss. "Well, we can always give it to charity or something," he assured her, "if that'll make you feel better."

Jenna considered his proposal reluctantly and murmered "I guess," in a doubtful tone, but her face had relaxed a bit and her healthy color was returning, so Crowley was pacified.

"Better yet, I'll donate it," he offered with an indulgent grin, placing a hand on his chest like it was a great personal sacrifice. "Not only will the money be used to help the poor unfortunates of your choice, but it will be hand-delivered by a bona-fide demon. Basically, you'll save a wretch from further eternal damnation and make some starving kids in Africa happy." He held out his hand. "Deal?"

Jenna put her hands on her hips, the right one of which jutted out slightly as she leaned on her left food and cocked her head to the right, wearing a very wry smile. "Oh, really?" she said sarcastically. "I wonder why my stomach hurts then...."

Crowley's smile vanished and he slowly lowered his hand, looking down and blushing. "Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. Um, that'll be the bit about you saving my soul, which is impossible at this point. But the rest was a legitimate offer, I swear!" he assured her emphatically with his hands.

Jenna gave him another suspicious look before giggling and shaking the demon's hand, which was once again sweating profusely. "Ok, sounds good," she smiled.

"Sorry for causing you pain," mumbled Crowley, still looking embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm fine, don't worry about it," she said dismissively, waving his apology away. "It was just a twinge, nothing major." Jenna paused, biting her lip, then added tentatively, "Is that true? That you're beyond redemption?"

Crowley looked into her deep pools of cerulean concern and fear, sighed and replied in a low voice, "Yes, it's true. I can never return to Heaven." He had a pained, far away look in his molten orbs, like he was remembering something unpleasant.

Jenna touched his arm, bringing him back to Earth. "I'm sorry, Crowley," she said softly, her eyes boring into his sympathetically. "I shouldn't have--"

"No, it was a good question," he assured her, managing a smile smile. "I like when you ask questions. It shows you're curious, which is something most angels and demons aren't. That's why I like Earth, I guess," he realized, "because it's full of curious humans."

Jenna smiled. "That's a nice way of looking at it."

Crowley shrugged and turned to leave. "Well, anyway. I've bothered you long enough. Here's your things," he continued, snapping his fingers. Two large suitcases and one carry on bag appeared in the guest room next to the bed, as did three ponderous trunks, each of which could fit Jenna Crowley, Aziraphale and perhaps a small cat fairly comfortably.

"Whoa, what're the trunks for?" asked Jenna, staring at them in alarm.

The demon grinned and placed a hand on one. "Well, knowing Angel," he began, his golden eyes twinkling, "he probably filled them with books, new clothes and writing supplies for you." He grinned at her affectionately.

"But three trunks' worth?" she whispered meekly, her eyes wide with terror. "I could live in one of these!"

"Well, maybe that's the idea, then," teased Crowley. "You're meant to stay in one of the trunks instead of a guest room! Ugh, if only I'd known!" he cried dramatically, leaning against the wall and placing the back of his left hand on his forehead as though he were about to faint. "I never would have lugged them all in here!"

Jenna laughed, which warmed Crowley's heart again. "Well, I wouldn't mind living in one of these," she confessed, surveying one of the trunks from every angle with a critical eye. "Not too much space, very cozy...like a tiny house!"

"Jenna, you are not staying in a trunk," said Crowley firmly, rolling his eyes but smiling in spite of himself. "You are going to sleep in a bed, like a normal human being."

"Celestern," she corrected him cheekily.

"Whatever," he replied, trying not to laugh. "If I find out you're sleeping in a trunk instead of the bed--"

"Alright! Alright! I won't! Geez," sighed Jenna, crossing her arms and grinning playfully at him. "You're no fun."

"No, I'm not," agreed Crowley with a very serious expression, which then changed into a smile as he said, "Alright, I'm off. Just holler if you need anything, I have good hearing."

"Ok, thanks," said Jenna, starting to unzip her purple suitcase. As Crowley was closing the door, she suddenly stood up, spun around and said, "Wait!"

"What is it?" asked the demon, a bit alarmed as he stepped back into her room.

"We need to talk about rent! I'm sorry for not bringing it up sooner," apologized Jenna, looking down guiltily. "Everything happened so fast I didn't get a chance to--well, we'll discuss it now," she finished firmly, looking very determined and serious.

Oh, fuck, thought Crowley.

"So, I was thinking we'd split it in half, but that was before seeing how huge this place really is," she admitted, gesturing widely with her hands. "I don't think I can manage half of whatever you pay, but I have a decent amount of savings and I'll compensate in other ways, like chores, cooking--oh yeah, you don't eat--"

"Jenna," interrupted Crowley gently, biting his lip and looking very uncomfortable. "Don't worry about it, okay? You're my guest. Don't think about any of that."

Jenna frowned slightly. "What do you mean? I can't just stay here rent-free! I mean, don't you need help--"

"I honestly don't," assured the demon vehemently. "Really. I just miracle money when I want or need it. And I actually own the flat now, so--"

"Ah," said Jenna, nodding and looking away. "Yes. That makes sense. Sorry." Stupid! She thought. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid!!

"No, it's very sweet of you to offer!" cried Crowley, his eyes still looking a bit nervous. "It's just, um.....well, you're my guest," he repeated lamely, since he didn't know what else to say.

"I understand," replied Jenna, though she still looked a bit bothered. "Oh, and I'm obviously so grateful, of course--"she added hastily, staring up at Crowley with guileless blue/green eyes.

"No, it's fine! Don't worry about it," he repeated awkwardly, hoping she wouldn't continue the subject. Honestly, even if Crowley had no money or assets, he still wouldn't feel comfortable making Jenna contribute financially to the flat; something about it felt wrong, and ungentlemanly.

But then he looked at her anxious face and could almost hear her mind sorting through how she could still help out somehow. Crowley sighed, leaned against the door frame and said, "If you acually want to contribute something--"

"Of course I do!" cried Jenna fervently.

He sighed and grinned, one side of his mouth going higher than the other. "Yeah, I know you do. Ok, since you want to help out, for what reason I cannot possibly conceive--" he added under his breath, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, "--if you wanted to, I don't know, do some chores once or twice a week, I guess that would be ok. But!" he added emphatically, holding up a finger and widening his eyes seriously as she grinned happily and opened her mouth as if to speak. She closed her mouth and looked at him patiently, an angelic sweetness adorning her fine features.

"This is neither an obligation nor an expectation," continued the demon, trying to ignore her beauty and focus on the task at hand. "Your stay here does NOT depend on you doing these light and easy chores once or twice a week," he clarified, emphasizing certain words to indicate how little he hoped she'd actually clean, "nor am I expecting you to do anything other than eat, sleep, rest and become a half-demon, half-angel Nephilim over the next four months." He counted off the expectations on his fingers rather dramatically, and Jenna had to stifle a laugh as she nodded solemnly.

"Meaning," continued Crowley, giving her a firm, knowing look, "you should only begin these chores if you actually want to, and potentially continue them if they make you happy." He stared at her with an intense, almost stern gaze. "Agreed?"

"Agreed." Jenna shook his hand, then hugged him tightly around the neck, to his shock. "Thank you, Crowley," she whispered, closing her eyes as tears filled her blue/green pools.

He hesitated for a moment, but hugged her back once he'd regained his senses and smiled lovingly down at her.

Sniffling, she released Crowley, who looked away tactfully as she wiped her eyes a bit. "Well, that's that, I guess," she said a bit thickly.

"Yeah," agreed Crowley. He paused. "Hey!" he said, frowning at her.

She looked up, confused. "Hey what?"

"You just bargained with me," he said, a wicked smile slowly slithering across his handsome features. "Pretty successfully too, I might add."

Jenna scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, super successful," she agreed sarcastically, waving her hands in the air briefly. "I started out the conversation saying I'd pay half, or at least part of, the rent, and you negotiated me down to two easy little chores per week." She narrowed her eyes and grinned at him. "I think it's clear who won here."

Crowley's mischievous grin widened at her playfulness. "Ok, first of all," he began, counting his points on his fingers again, "it's one to two easy light little chores a week MAX, and that's only if you're not getting Obsessive Compulsive Disorder about it."

Jenna giggled. "You can just say OCD, Crowley."

"Oh, is that what that stands for? I thought it meant--never mind. Second," he continued, his devilish smile softening slightly, "it was your first time bargaining! Give it time!"

Jenna laughed and rolled her eyes. "What the hell are you talking about, Crowley?"

"Your powers!" he exclaimed animatedly, throwing his arms out grandly. He paused, adding, "Well, your demonic powers, to be precise," as he lowered his long arms and stuck his hands back in his jeans pockets. "Demons make deals, and are known for being quite persuasive. You, my dear--" he teased, tapping her nose gently with his finger and still grinning broadly, "--have just persuaded and made a deal with your first victim!"

Jenna looked a bit nauseous as she said "Yay me" sarcastically and pretended to wave an invisible flag with her right hand.

Crowley burst out laughing, which made her laugh too.

"You know, it actually doesn't seem to me like I was using a power," she admitted when they'd stopped guffawing. "I mean, I guess I don't feel anything magical or otherworldly when I use my angelic powers either, but honestly? That just felt like every other time in my life that I've negotiated with people." She looked up at Crowley expectantly. "Maybe just a coincidence?"

The demon shook his head, his smile and eyes very warm. "Definitely not. No human can even attempt to negotiate with a demon beyond a few words unless the demon in question is interested in continuing the exchange--and just to clarify I absolutely was not--" he added vehemently, chopping his slanted hands downward for emphasis.

Jenna smiled and shrugged a bit as she sang, "I know."

"--or if the demon initiates the negotiation/bargain/deal. In this case," he continued, leaning against the side of the door again and smirking down at Jenna proudly, "You not only initiated the negotiation when you brought up the topic of paying rent, but managed to continue arguing with me despite my silent prayers that you would stop."

Jenna raised an eyebrow. "Prayers?"

"Figure of speech," clarified the demon casually. "My point is, you, my dear Miss Kingsley, most definitely just displayed your very first demonic power!" He raised his hands excitedly again, looking like he'd just won the lottery. "Can I get a wahoo?"

Jenna blinked. "Um, wahoo?"

"Close enough," snickered Crowley as he turned to go. "Alright, I'm really really going now. I promise. Goodbye." He flashed a charming smile at her before shutting the door and swaggering down the hallway, feeling quite pleased with himself but unsure why.

Jenna sighed and smiled as she shook her head at what had just occured. "Well, I guess it's really happening, then," she murmured to herself, flopping onto the bed and watching the sun begin to set behind the now vacant park.


	15. In which Crowley miracles Jenna grilled cheese

"K, this is LITERALLY the best grilled cheese I've ever had!" Jenna took another bite, then closed her eyes and chewed slowly as she savoured the thick, rich Colby Jack, tangy mustard and soft, buttery potato bread.

"I was hoping you'd like it," replied Crowley, smiling at his dining companion across the long thin table. "I've tried making them m'self before, but they tend to burn pretty quickly before the flames inevitably engulf them."

Jenna swallowed and laughed warmly. "Well, you did a wonderful job miracling one up," she assured him, taking a dainty sip of tepid water. "I'm not much of a cook either--well, at all, really," she admitted, setting her glass down. "I mostly just buy those pre-made frozen meals, which my roommate _hates,_ so she cooks for us a lot."

"You have a roommate?" said Crowley, taking a sip of water as well. "What's her name?"

"Melissa, we work at the museum together," explained Jenna, gently scewering a cherry tomato half from her salad and lifting it to her full pink lips. "We've been friends since high school, and she kind of got me the job, actually. Right after graduation, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, so she suggested I apply for a Teaching Artist position at the children's museum where she worked. I mean, I love kids and art, so I jumped at the chance to work with both.

I was so happy when they hired me, I didn't think they would--and then Mel said I should just live with her, since her apartment's only three blocks from the museum in downtown San Diego."

"That's really cool," he said, grinning affectionately. "She sounds like a good friend."

"Oh, she's an _amazing_ friend!" Jenna assured him. "She's so kind, funny, supportive, accepting--and she really encourages me to write, which is..... _overall_ very helpful, but in the moment, usually quite annoying."

Crowley laughed heartily. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he chuckled. "Since '52, Angel's been _hounding_ me nonstop to write some songs, just because I learned some riffs on one of those electric guitars."

Jenna raised her eyebrows as she swallowed another bite of salad. "You play guitar?"

Crowley shrugged and crinkled his face a bit, trying to look modest. "Not really, just picked up a few tricks here and there. It was all the rage back then, and I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

"That's _really_ cool," she said emphatically, leaning forward a bit and resting her folded arms on the table. "I've always wanted to learn how to play the guitar, or at least some type of string instrument, but I'm just too lazy." She shrugged and smiled sadly at her plate.

Crowley choked a bit on his water as she spoke. Coughing, he frowned and argued, "Oh, come on! You are _by far_ the _least_ lazy person I know. I mean," he continued, setting down his glass and gesturing toward her with his hand, "would you call anyone else who graduated summa cum laude "lazy?"

Jenna rolled her eyes, but smiled and blushed furiously in spite of herself. "That's kind of you to say," she muttered, moving some salad around with her fork.

"It's _true_ ," Crowley corrected her with a grin. "You work harder than any human I've ever known."

Jenna opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when she noticed the absence of pain in her stomach. Shocked, she stared at the demon and said, "You're not lying, are you?"

Crowley shook his head, smiling playfully, his eyes twinkling with mischief as they gazed at her over his water glass as he took a long sip.

Jenna rolled her eyes and scoffed, looking away from him and crossing her arms but still smiling, her lush lips trembling slightly as she tried not to grin too much.

Crowley set down his glass again, still gazing at her, although that odd, intense look had replaced his amused expression. She knew he was looking at her, but suddenly felt too shy to look back as her smile faltered and fell.

When her smile vanished and she shifted uncomfortably, Crowley realized he was staring at her (yet again) and immediately averted his eyes, coughing and shaking his head a bit. _Stop fucking around!_ he thought to himself. _You're freaking her out, you git! Just be normal!_

"Um," he stammered, "speaking of your, uh, life back home....what did work say about you taking some time off?"

Jenna looked back at Crowley and sighed internally with relief that he changed the subject. "Oh, yeah! My supervisor said it was fine, she _totally_ understood when I told her I was having a personal emergency, as well as... some....medical issues," she added reluctantly, looking very uncomfortable and nervous, "which I felt bad saying, but it's not _un_ true, I guess--"

"Oh, its completely true!" cried Crowley, eager to remove the guilt eminating from her aura. "You are going through serious physical as well as spiritual changes! As your powers emerge, your whole body will change, or rather Evolve, to accommodate them," he explained, hoping it made her feel a bit better. "I think you were 100% honest with your boss."

Jenna smiled gratefully, her whole body relaxing. "Thank you so much, Crowley," she gushed, her blue/green eyes shining brightly. "That was really bothering me since I called this afternoon--I mean, I just have a weird thing about telling the truth--"

"It's not weird," said the demon softly, his molten pools of gold gazing at her sympathetically. "It's a very admirable trait, even though you do tend to worry about it more than you need to. As someone who lies on a regular basis," he added with a grin, "I know an honest soul when I see one."

Jenna blushed a sweet rosy hue and looked down at her lap bashfully, her beautiful face still smiling sweetly. "Thank you, Crowley," she whispered, her fascinating eyes gazing deeply into his nervous ones again.

Crowley coughed and looked away as he scratched the back of his neck and said, rather loudly in his opinion, "A-and your roommate? What did she say?"

Jenna's smile fell and she bit her lip. "Um," she began nervously, "Melissa's, well, kind of overprotective sometimes, so she's pretty worried," she confessed. "I tried to convince her I'm fine, but she's really suspicious. Especially since I haven't been able to text her since I lost my phone," explained the Celestern. "She said she called like 12 times and sent dozens of texts, even called the hotel I was staying at--but we were in Hell at the time, so neither the hotel nor anyone else knew what was going on."

Crowley nodded. "That makes sense, she just really cares about you. What did you tell her happened?"

Jenna grimaced. "Well, I really did lie that time, so I feel pretty crappy about that, but it's for the greater good, so..." She took a deep breath, then continued. "I told Melissa I'd met some new friends who took me to Switzerland spontaneously--"

"Sounds true so far!" said the demon encouragingly.

Jenna grinned sweetly at him again, and he felt his heart thump a bit faster. "And then we ran into some gangsters who tried to kill you two while I was safely at the hotel--"

"If only," muttered Crowley bitterly.

"Shush. But you and Zira--you're still Zira and Crowley to her--escaped, and we returned to London safely, whereupon I contracted a strange virus that prevents me from traveling at this time," she finished.

Crowley nodded, impressed. "That's the best not-exactly-a-lie story I've ever heard," he confessed, grinning reassuringly at her.

Jenna sighed. "If only Melissa felt the same way," she said sadly, putting an elbow on the table and gently resting her apprehensive face in her hand as she looked down. "She knows I'm hiding something. We didn't end the call on _bad_ terms, it was all very civil--but I can tell she's frustrated. I don't like keeping secrets" confessed Jenna, glancing up at Crowley, "least of all from the people I love."

Crowley nodded. "I know," he said softly. They both sat in silence, but it was more melancholy than awkward this time. As the demon opened his mouth to try to make her feel better again, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw it was Aziraphale. It was also 8:45pm, meaning Crowley was supposed to phone him 45 minutes ago.

"Sorry, it's Angel," he explained, holding up the phone so Jenna could see the caller ID. "I'm sorry, but do you mind if I take this in the other room? He wanted us to chat privately before you and he did--"

"No, not at all! You go talk, I'll finish eating and clean up," Jenna said with a warm smile.

"You don't need to--"

"I want to, now shoo!" Jenna made a sweeping motion with her hands toward the demon to accompany her command.

Crowley grinned and shook his head as he disappeared into his office. Once inside, shut the door and sat on his throne before answering his still ringing cell.

"Hey, Angel. Sorry I didn't call, lost track of time--"

"It's fine, Crowley, I assumed as much," said Aziraphale's warm voice. "How are you two getting on?"

"Um, fine, I guess," said the demon uncertainly, looking at the doorway leading to the dining room apprehensively. "She's all unpacked and settled in, thanks for getting her stuff--"

"Oh, it was nothing. I can't _believe_ how rude the hotel patrons were, however! Seemed to think she owed them some sort of advanced notice before checking out early, as if she were a tenant and they landlords!" The angel sounded flustered and very irritated, as he often did when discussing customer service experiences.

Crowley chuckled. "I heard you even got her a full refund," he said in a falsely impressed tone, his voice full of mischief as he reclined in his throne, his feet resting on his imposing onyx desk.

"Of course I did! Why wouldn't I--"

"You _do_ know that wasn't her money, right?" Crowley interrupted, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "She _won_ the trip, Angel. According to Jenna, her reward had one stipulation: this trip cannot be exchanged for cash or other favors. If she leaves early, she forfeits the remaining money as well. _Meaning_ ," he continued slowly and teasingly, savouring the moment, "that you have actually acquired for your new friend _stolen cash_."

Aziraphale was silent for a few moments, and Crowley could picture his round face pale with shock and horror.

" _Damn_ ," swore the angel in a forceful whisper. Crowley's wicked grin widened in triumph, and he bowed before an imaginary audience.

"Well, I suppose I could return it to the hotel--although they really don't deserve the money--" began Aziraphale after a bit.

Crowley, having had his fun, decided to put the angel out of his misery. Sniggering, he said, "Don't worry, we decided to give it to charity. Her choice."

"Oh! Well that's wonderful! I should have known she'd think up a good solution--"

"Yeah," coughed Crowley, glancing guiltily at the door and quickly changing the subject. "Hey, how did things go with Gabriel?"

"Oh, don't even get me started!" replied Aziraphale angrily. "Pompous as ever, just strutted in like he owned the place--refused to call me anything but Traitor the entire visit--"

"So, status quo?" teased the demon, smirking as he examined his nails.

"Ha ha. Well, to be fair, I suppose overall it went surprisingly well," continued Aziraphale, "seeing as he didn't arrest me or somehow sense her Celesternal presence--"

"Which no one can, cuz she's not Evolved yet, right?" clarified Crowley, lowering his legs and leaning forward and with a very concerned expression on his face.

"Right," said the angel, and Crowley's posture relaxed a bit. "According to the book, Miss Kingsley has no detectable supernatural presence until her 25th birthday, by which time her powers will have emerged and matured to full strength."

"Good," sighed Crowley, leaning back in his throne again. "Anyway, what did he say?"

"Well, believe it or not, the arrogant Poppinjay _insisted_ he _could_ sense her Celesternal aura, which worried me until he described in as 'putrid, slimy, nearly unbearable to the senses,'" quoted the angel. Crowley's hands tightened into cold fists at the archangel's words.

"By all other accounts," continued Aziraphale, "and there are hundreds recorded in the text, made by angelic and demonic entities as well as humans, 'the Celesternal aura is always _pleasant_ to experience, an irresistible blend of sensual desire and angelic purity,' which is partially what makes them so charismatic as a species."

"Wow," said Crowley, glancing fearfully at the door. "I'm not sure I could handle that, Angel..."

"Crowley, it's fine," said the angel sternly. "Her aura won't blossom--"

"You _really_ need to stop using that word," groaned Crowley, covering his hands with his eyes as a wave of desire washed across his taut frame.

"Sorry, erm, _emerge,_ until her 25th birthday, by which time I'll have joined you both and she'll hopefully be free from our respective realms' tyranny."

"Yeah," exhaled Crowley, concentrating on Aziraphale's words instead of the lascivious images that kept intruding on his conscious mind. "Yeah, that'll be good..."

"Anyway, speaking of such tyranny," continued the angel briskly, "Gabriel nearly tore the place apart searching for her, although none of my previous books were damaged, thank the good Lord. He just would believe me when I insisted with my most innocent, scrupulous voice and expression that I had no idea what he was taking about!" Crowley could hear the smug, self-satisfied smile on Aziraphale's face as he recounted his duplicity. "Finally, after about a half hour of him stomping about and trying to intimidate me, which for the record he most certainly did _not_ \--"

"Of course not," agreed Crowley, smiling indulgently at his best friend.

"--he departed, muttering something about "demonic sources" and "practical jokes" under his breath before vanishing into the fog, which mysteriously lifted after his departure."

"As it always does," finished Crowley with a grin. "Well done, Angel. You really showed him who wears the halo in your relationship."

"Yes, I believe I did," agreed Aziraphale, sounding extremely pleased with himself. "Anyway, how are _you_ , Crowley?" His tone grew concerned. "Are you getting on alright?"

Crowley sighed and considered his question before answering, "It's....not as challenging as I thought it would be," he admitted in a hushed tone, glancing nervously at the doorway as he heard the sound of dishes being washed. "But it's only been, what, 8 hours? I'm still very much against this, Angel--"

"I know, dear friend. And I am sorry. But I have complete faith in you, and know for 100% certainty that you will do nothing to harm Jenna. In fact, I'm more concerned about her harming _you,_ once her more volatile powers bloss--energe..."

Crowley frowned. "Hurt me? How?"

"Well, the book talks about her having the ability to create holy water, for instance. I don't know how that will reveal itself, but I'm a bit.... _apprehensive_ about it." Aziraphale sounded downright terrified.

Crowley laughed. "It's fine, Angel. We'll figure it out. Im sure it's not like it'll spew from her mouth or eyes, like some kind of horror film you never let us watch."

"Because they're horrifying!" cried Aziraphale, as if Crowley had gone insane. The demon roared with laughter as the angel continued, "Id rather be discorporated than even _think_ about that creepy film again...."

"What, _The Ring?"_

_"Crowley!!!"_

Crowley laughed harder as the angel blustered on the other end. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I'm done," the demon assured him, still chuckling, at which point Aziraphale scoffed and asked to be handed to Jenna.

"Ah, come on, don't be like that," whined Crowley. "It was just a joke!"

"That terrifying girl haunted my every waking minute for _weeks_ afterwards, Crowley. Weeks!"

"Alright, I know. I'm sorry. In penance for my sins," he stated in a lofty voice, putting a hand on his chest, "we will finally attend the opera of your choosing once this is all over. My treat," he added for good measure.

Crowley immediately regretted his generous offer when Aziraphale began gushing like a teenager who'd just received backstage passes to Fall Out Boy. "Oh, really, Crowley? That will be absolutely divine! We'll even invite Miss Kingsley, she's never been and I'm absolutely _certain_ she'll _adore_ \--"

"Yeah yeah, sounds sublime," said Crowley monotonously, standing up and walking toward the door. "Anyways, nice chatting with you. Excellent job putting that arrogant bastard in his place. I'll hand you to Jenna now."

The demon opened the door and returned to the dining room, where he saw Jenna sitting patiently at the long empty table, her dishes and his glass washed and in the sink. The table looked as if it had been wiped off as well.

"Where'd you find cleaning supplies?" Crowley whispered at her, frowning and holding the phone against his chest to that Aziraphale couldn't hear.

She just smiled widely and pointed under the sink. "You had some paper towels and one bottle of a generic cleaning solution," she explained in an equally quiet tone. "Hope you like lemon, cuz that's what you're gonna be smelling a lot of during the next four months."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Here's the neat freak for you, Angel," he sighed, but smiled at Jenna warmly as he handed her the phone and sat down in the living room. He couldn't see her from there, but he could still hear her melodious voice.

"Hi, Zira!" she greeted him brightly, getting up from the table and walking around the dining room a bit. Crowley grinned at the affection for his best friend evident in her tone.

"Oh, I'm fine, never better! Listen, I wanted to apologize for being short with you before we left. I--" Jenna stopped talking, and Crowley assumed Aziraphale was chastising her for apologizing and fervently assuring her she was actually quite composed despite her self-critical perspective on it. At least, that's what _he'd_ say if he were responding.

"Well, I appreciate that, thank you," said Jenna gratefully after a few minutes. "What? Oh, it's such a lovely flat, I had no idea how huge it was the first time I came!" (Pause). "I'm in the room facing the park, with the--yeah, that's what he said too!" (Pause). "Oh, yes. Crowley's been wonderful, a perfect gentleman all day," she assured the angel, her voice sounding surprisingly relaxed and genuine to the demon's reddening ears.

"Oh, of course, sure. Go ahead. (Pause). Ok, good to know, I'll just give him some space when he's like that."

Crowley whipped his head around to face the dining room so fast he cricked his neck sharply. Rubbing it, he glared at the ground and wondered, _When I'm like what? What did that rat bastard tell her?!_

"Oh, ok. I'll keep that in mind too. I'm the same way."

 _What the fuck was that?! s_ creamed one of many little insecure voices in the demons mind. _What are we the same about?!_

"Sure, take your time. (Pause, then Jenna giggles). "You're kidding. Yes, you are. Yes, you--oh my gosh you're not!" she exclaimed. "My stomach doesn't--are you _serious_?!"

Neither Crowley not the insecure people living in his twisted brain could take it anymore, so they kept off the couch, fumed into the dining room and were just about to snatch the phone back and give the angel a piece of their mind when he heard her gush, "Oh, that's actually really sweet!"

Crowley paused, only a few feet behind her back, glancing guiltily about him. Before she could turn around, he softly snapped his fingers and disappeared, reappearing in the living room, where he breathed a sigh of relief and clutched his racing heart.

"Yeah! I mean, it's not _great_ that he yells at them--"

 _Oh my fucking God,_ blanched Crowley, cringing involuntarily.

"--but it's better than other forms of stress relief, like violent video games or drugs!" (Pause). "Yes, I'll be fine. No, I'll just let him know if it bothers me, I won't need to call you."

 _Shit,_ thought the demon, leaning over his knees and gripping his long hair tightly with whitening hands. _Shit shit shit shit shit shit!_

"Well, anyway, thanks for letting me know, but we'll be _fine_. (Pause,). Yes, I ate. Grilled cheese. (Pause). No, he didn't _make_ me eat it, I like that meal! (Pause, then laughter). "It's ok, Zira, you're fine. Anyway, how are you? How did things go with Gabriel?"

Crowley bit his lip nervously and hoped he wasn't telling her the full story.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" The demon sighed in relief. "Yeah, just keep us posted. Thank you for everything, Zira--you're a beautiful friend." (Pause). "You're sweet....did you want to talk to Crowley again? Alright then, goodnight!"

Crowley straightened up and quickly tried to fix his disheveled hair as Jenna entered the living room.

"Thanks," she said, handing the phone to him. He grinned back, trying to look normal despite the fact that his internal world had reached DEFCON 4 and his inner demons were running around like headless chickens.

"No prob," he replied, his voice high and weird. "Um, good chat?"

"Yeah, it was great," said Jenna with a slightly uncomfortable smile. Neither spoke for a few moments. When Crowley finally couldn't take the damned silence anymore, he blurted out, "Look, I don't know what Aziraphale told you, but I'm not crazy, or a psychopath or anything. I know it sounds---well, crazy and psychotic, but--"

Jenna walked over to the demon, knelt in front of him and placed a warm, soothing hand on his shaking ones. Looking deeply and compassionately into his golden irises, she said very warmly, "Crowley, whatever you do with your plants is none of my business. We all do things that seem odd to others. I mean, hell, I'm a great example!" Jenna pointed at herself with both hands. "You've hung around me my whole life, so you know all my quirks! Nonstop whistling, humming, singing, finger tapping, not to mention my OCD!"

Crowley gave her a look and said, "Nice try, but I know it's not the same thing. You don't scream at living things and threaten to...murder them in the garbage disposal when they inevitably don't meet your impossibly high standards. Nor do said living things shake in mortal terror when you enter the room," he added, looking down with eyes full of shame, "the sight of which most of me honestly.......enjoys." He closed his eyes tightly as he confessed the final damning word, ready for and expecting her to withdraw from him completely.

But once again, the young Nephilim shocked him by gently cupping his distressed face with her soft, sweet-smelling hands and raising back up. Upon opening his eyes, he saw her face was full of gentle compassion, her girgeous blue/green eyes gazing unafraid into his hideous serpentine ones.

"Crowley," she said firmly, maintaining steady eye contact with the demon, "all of that is perfectly valid and normal. I've had more than enough therapy to know that when we've been through trauma--and, yes, I would call Falling from Heaven into Hell a rather significant trauma--we develop PTSD, and a whole host of coping mechanisms to deal with it."

Crowley just stared at her, melting into her comforting touch.

"Now, it seems like both of us have some maladaptive coping behaviors--you scare the hell out of plants, and I, among other things, have my various lovely OCD behaviors, all of which I'm sure you're painfully aware." She face fell, and Crowley realized that she felt the same way about her OCD as he did about his gardening behavior.

"Anyway," she continued, trying to smile encouragingly, "the point is that I understand. If that's what you need to do to relax, then who am I to judge?" She paused, lowered her hands and added tentatively, "I do kind of have a thing about yelling though--I just get really triggered when I hear loud angry voices--but--"

"I know, Jenna," Crowley assured her vehemently, placing a hand on _her_ cheek this time. "Of course you do. I mean, the way your parents--anyway, I PROMISE not to do that while you're living here," he said fervently, his eyes searching hers for something she didn't know. "One of my greatest fears is that I will hurt or scare you in any way, so there's not a chance in Heaven or Hell I'm going to let that happen around you."

He had never said this out loud before, least of all to his beloved, whom the declaration intimately concerned. It felt weird, and he wished he could still sink into the ground like other demon's to escape this severe mortification.

Thankfully, Jenna didn't prolong her gratitude, merely thanking and reassuring him that he needn't feel ashamed about the things he dies to feel better. Crowley tried to say how much that meant to him, but it all came out in a weird jumble of random sounds, which made both burst out laughing.

Still chuckling, Jenna laid on the floor and realized how exhausted she was. "I'm so tired," she yawned, slowly getting back up. "I think I'll turn in."

"That sounds good," replied Crowley, taking her hand to help her up a bit. "If you need anything during the night, just holler--I don't often sleep at night, so you won't wake me."

"Ah," she remembered, slowly nodding and half-asleep already. "Makes sense. Well, I do, and if I don't I die, so--"

"Yeah, I can see that," chuckled the demon. She was so cute when she was tired. "Well, goodnight, Jenna."

"Goodnight, Crowley." She smiled sleepily, her eyes half open as she turned and wandered slowly toward her room. "Sweet dreams!"

Crowley smiled to himself at her last comment as she closed her door, thinking that perhaps he could get used to this after all.


	16. In which Crowley becomes a snake

Over the next two weeks, Jenna grew exceedingly happier at Crowley's flat than she anticipated, partly due to Crowley's excessive efforts to help her feel comfortable. For instance, the demon was extremely attentive to her human needs (his fridge was now stuffed with her favorite foods, she always had a full glass of water in her cozy room, the temperature never fell below 75°F, etc.), stocked his bookshelf with her favorite novels (the ones Aziraphale hadn't already given her at least) and miracled her pretty much every spa/self-care product imaginable because he was too shy to ask what she specifically liked.

Crowley also purchased her a new phone, given that he and the angel hadn't been able to miracle hers back (Crowley assumed Hastur destroyed it, given his hatred for technology), and refused to accept her money when she tried to pay him for it. It was an iPhone 12, much more expensive than the old moto g6 Android she had before, which made her feel even guiltier about the purchase. Jenna debated not using the phone at all until her desire for Pandora reached its peak. In spite of herself, it was now her most prized possession, other than her grandmother's crystal necklace and the books Aziraphale had given her.

While the positive impact of these myriad luxuries was great, the thing Jenna enjoyed most about her "temporary quarantine" was spending time with Crowley. He was always initially very nervous upon seeing her again each morning, usually in the kitchen eating breakfast or reading on the couch, but by 10am or so he'd relax enough that they could watch a movie or TV show (she introduced him to The Office about three days into her stay and he was hooked, quoting the characters constantly and trying to replicate Jim's pranks with Aziraphale).

Around noon Jenna would have lunch and he'd head out for the afternoon, usually to visit Aziraphale but never outside London. Jenna would use this time to read, do yoga, nap, sketch or clean, the latter of which she did as often as she wanted instead of adhering to the bargain they'd made when she arrived. Crowley knew and, concerned she was overworking herself, planned to confront her about it one afternoon, but when he found her happily sweeping and with headphones in, energetically mouthing the lyrics to her music and occasional pretending the broom was a guitar, he quickly forgot about his stipulation and just smiled and left before she could notice him.

Around 6pm, the demon would either bring home dinner or miracle something up if she had a unique craving. A few times a week, Aziraphale would join them for dinner, bringing Jenna more books and personal items she was too embarrassed to ask Crowley for. He and Crowley would spend the evening entertaining her with stories about their various misadventures, including the duo's infamous meeting in the Garden of Eden, the not-quite-Apocalypse in 2019 and Aziraphale's brief career in piracy, which Crowley insisted was just a very lucid dream the angel had convinced himself over the years was real.

Most nights, however, it was just Jenna and Crowley. They'd eat dinner, then either watch another movie or talk, the latter being Jenna's favorite. She had so many questions for him about being a demon, Heaven and Hell, the last 6,000 years, etc., but hesitated at first for fear of overwhelming or annoying him. It took ample reassurance from Crowley that he not only didn't mind, but actually quite enjoyed, answering her queries, but by the middle of the first week she was firing questions left and right, almost too quickly for him to keep up.

When was he created? Did he have a birthday? Was he present for the creation of the Earth and universe? How much of The Bible was objectively true? Had he met Shakespeare? Did he have a favorite time period? Least favorite? How many demons and angels were there? Why were the titles in Hell royal? What was his title? How did titles work in Heaven? What powers did he have as a demon?

"Well," he began thoughtfully one evening as they sat on his black leather couch, him with his legs crossed and left arm draped across the back and her sitting cross-legged on the opposite cushion, watching him intently, "I've got all the generic ones, like Persuasion--y'know, tempting, making deals, that kind of thing--Demonic Miracles, like Angelic but chocolate-flavored--" Jenna giggled and he winked "--um....I can use the Dark to attack angelic beings--"

"Wait," interrupted Jenna, holding up a hand. "Is that like the opposite of the Light Aziraphale referred to weeks ago?"

"Yeah, exactly," beamed Crowley, impressed with her memory. "The Light and Dark are two sides of the same neutral Source energy, which is what everything is made of. The Dark is comprised of, like, shadows that attack celestial beings and protect demonic," he explained.

Jenna narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "So, kind of like Star Wars?"

Crowley's eyebrows flew up and his eyes widened slightly as he looked away and pondered her query. "Um...wow, I guess it is," he replied, sounding surprised. "Never saw the connection before.....wow, that's so weird!" He turned back to her with a freaked-out expression.

She gave him a very disbelieving half-grin, her eyebrows crinkled a bit. "Seriously? Dark and Dark side? Source and Force? Angels & demons and Jedi & Sith Lords? How could you not see the parallels?!"

"Because, Trekkie," he replied silkily, "not all of us can be the nerdy Star Wars super fan that you are." He crossed his arms, looking rather pleased with himself.

Jenna sighed with exasperation, covered her face with her right hand and shook her head slowly. "Ok, so much wrong with what you just said," she muttered, then uncovered her face and fixed him with a determinedly patient look. "Ok, A," she began emphatically, "trekkies like Star Trek, not Star Wars. Get it? Star Trek?" repeated the Celestern, enunciating the last word carefully.

Crowley blushed furiously, but shrugged his shoulders and plastered a smug grin on his face as he retorted. "I know so little about those pathetic fantasy worlds that I surely wouldn't know the correct terminology. I simply have to much dignity and coolness for that," he continued, nonchalantly examining his nails and using a pinch of his powers to try and appear as suave, charming and worldly as possible.

Jenna just snickered. "Okay, whatever, Mr. Bond," she teased, eliciting a sideways glance and smile from her friend. "Anyway, B, I'm not a nerdy Star Wars fan. That's my dad. I know next to nothing about the movies, just the stuff that anyone with any friends at all learned over the years," she teased.

Crowley pretended to look affronted. "I beg your pardon?!" he gasped in a lofty tone. "I'll have you know, young lady--"

"Celestern."

"--young Celestern, that the number of significant friendships I have acquired will always far exceed the number of people you will meet in your short lifetime, let alone--"

"I'm immortal."

"Can you just let me finish?" said Crowley in his normal voice, smiling and looking mock-annoyed at Jenna. "I'm kind of doing a thing here."

"Oh, right!" said Jenna, looking mock-apologetic. "I'm sorry," she mouthed, then pretended to zip her lips shut.

"Thank you. Anyway, despite your immortality," the demon continued, leaning towards her a bit and giving her a look as she grinned back, "I will still have always made more significant friendships than you will have met people, because I will always be 6,000 years older. So there." He finished with a very smug, self-satisfied expression on his attractive face.

Jenna gave him that "Seriously?" look again as she said, "Really. Then I wonder why my stomach disagrees....."

Crowley's smile vanished. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath as Jenna burst out laughing. "What's the fun of being a demon if I can't even lie to you properly?" He complained as she, still chuckling, rotated on her cushion so that her back was to him before laying down, her knees folded up and her head near his legs. "Lying's what I do best!"

"Ok, so that's another power then!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "So, Persuasion, Demonic Miracles, Dark side, lying--"

"That's not really a power," he admitted, readjusting slightly so he could see her face more comfortably in her new position. "I mean, demons are probably better at getting away with dishonesty, but as you know, everyone is capable of lying."

"Yeah," murmured Jenna, biting her lip. He cringed and internally berated himself for getting so into the details. Jenna's particular type of OCD dealt primarily with scrupulosity, or the obsessive need to be perfectly honest, trustworthy, follow religious/spiritual practices perfectly, fears of going to Hell, fear and intolerance of guilt while feeling guilt and shane constantly, etc. Jenna hated lying and tried not to as much as possible, but when she inevitably did (although she wasn't human, she was still imperfect), she usually felt at least ten times more guilty than the average person, even most angels!

Crowley looked back down at her ashamed face as she fidgeted with her shirt. He figured she was probably reviewing the times in her life that she'd been dishonest and fighting the overwhelming urge to confess these "sins" to anyone, although she'd already done so repeatedly with therapists, priests, etc. He'd seen it all over the years, and hated himself for being unable to ease her suffering.

But maybe now is different, he thought. Maybe I can actually help her, right now....

Crowley took a deep breath, gazed down at her distressed face and said, softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

As though awoken from a trance, she jerked slightly and her eyes flew up to meet his face hovering a few feet above hers. "No, it's fine," she said, trying to smile reassuringly. "I just got distracted."

Crowley just nodded, looking forward again. He would always be here in case she ever wanted to talk.

In the meantime...

"You know," he continued, playfulness returning to his low voice, "regarding demonic powers, I can also transform into a snake."

Jenna thought for a moment, then exclaimed, "Oh, yeah! I forgot." She sat up and scooted closer to him, so that they were on tangent cushions, although still not touching. "That's so cool, what do you look like?"

Crowley's eyes widened in surprise and amusement at her query. After a short internal debate during which his devil made such good arguments that even his angel began to agree, Crowley responded, trying to keep his voice even, "I can show you, if you like."

Jenna looked both relieved at excited, which surprised him again. "That would be awesome!" she assured him, smiling very attractively. "I wanted to ask if I could see you transform, but I didn't know if that was considered rude, or taboo, or something--"

Crowley laughed, gazing affectionately into her twin shining oceans. "Definitely not rude or taboo," he assured her, "but rather...unexpected. No one's ever actually wanted to see me transform before, let alone see my snake form itself..."

"Really?" said Jenna, frowning. "That's weird; if I had a friend that could turn into an animal, any animal really, I'd be asking them to do it constantly." She paused. "That, and begging them to teach me how to do it," she added.

Crowley chuckled again. "Well, it's entirely possible that one of your demonic powers will be animal transformations and/or communications," he assured her, hoping she'd smile brightly again.

But Jenna just stared at him blankly. "Waitwaitwait," she said after a minute, closing her eyes and holding up both hands. "Did you just say "animal communications?" As in, 'talking to animals?'"

"Basically, yeah."

Jenna stared at him some more, then her face blossomed with spontaneous joy as her mouth opened in an amazed smile and her blue/green eyes twinkled. "Oh my God, that's fantastic!" she cried, looking at Crowley excitedly! "I've always wanted to be able to communicate with animals!!"

I know, thought Crowley lovingly as he watched her happily processed the likelihood of her fulfilling a lifelong fantasy.

"Wow, that's just....wow," sighed Jenna, leaning back onto the couch so that her head brushed Crowley's arm slightly. She didn't seem to notice, but he did; the sensation of any part of her touching him, even her hair, sent pleasureable shivers down his spine, accompanied by intense guilt and self-hatred.

"Anyway," she continued, turning her head to the right so she could see Crowley but still rest it on the couch. "Sorry I got us off track. That'd be awesome, but only if you don't mind changing now--"

"Oh!" Crowley had gotten so distracted by her long brown hair lightly tickling his left arm that he forgot his offer to show her his snake form. "Of course! Yeah, just give me sec."

The demon stood up, faced away from Jenna, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It had been decades since he'd done this, but he as he kept telling himself, It's just like riding a bike, Crowley; something you never forget. Minus the helmet. Plus fangs. Equal likelihood of being run over by a semi, though....

As the demon slowly relaxed, he felt his body melt and gently reconfigure (the transformation was always pleasant in a tingly, exciting sort of way) as his torso lengthened, absorbing his arms and legs; his vision changed, so that he could only sense body heat; and his head stretched to form a large reptilian snout. Crowley let out a long hissing sigh as he gently lowered his long, muscular body to the floor, tasting the air with his tongue and searching for Jenna's scent.

During his metamorphosis, Jenna stared, enraptured, as his long, lanky body melted together, elongated and flowed gracefully to the floor. Crowley had become a 15-foot-long, one foot wide, powerful ebony snake slithering slowly, his forked tongue flicking our periodically. When his face turned toward her, she gasped slightly: his eyes, though larger and more prominent on his serpentine visage, were exactly the same, still beautiful molten pools of gold and yellow swirls, staring deeply into her own tiny, dull, dark eyes.

"Whoa," she gasped softly from her spot on the couch, watching the huge reptile rise up until they were eye-to-eye, though he still remained a good six feet away. His long, powerful body pulsed with energy as his long tail slowly slithered behind the rest of his coils.

"Sssssssssoooo?" hissed the snake, his expression (How the hell could a snake have an expression besides "resting bitch face?" she wondered) apprehensive.

"Ah! You can talk?!" exclaimed Jenna, leaning away and pointing at him. "Oh, wait, oh my God I'm so stupid, of course you can. Ugh!!" she groaned, rolling her eyes at her mistake. "You spoke to Eve in the Garden, for God's sake!"

Crowley hissed louder, this time a bit crackly as his body was shaking. His hypnotic eyes were now full of mischief.

"Are-are you...laughing at me?" Jenna asked, raising an eyebrow at the serpent, who nodded twice in response.

Jenna half laughed, half scoffed at hearing a snake laugh for the first time, then added fairly, "Well, I certainly deserved it. What kind of idiot forgets that the serpent from the Garden of freaking Eden can talk?!"

"Sssssssssshhhhhhhh," hissed Crowley soothingly, slowly lowering his head a bit. "Too harsssshhhhhhhh."

Jenna grinned at him. "Okay, okay. Sssssssssssorry, I'll ssssssssssssstop," she hissed back, which elicited another serpentine snicker from Crowley.

"Clossssssssser?" he then asked, moving his head very slowly two inches forward to illustrate.

"Um, ok," she said, a bit nervous but mostly excited. Keeping his eyes on hers, Crowley carefully and very gradually slithered a bit closer, then stretched his head and neck out so that it was about a foot from hers.

"Wow," whispered Jenna, marveling at the intricate red markings on his underside reminiscent of his long fiery hair. "You're so beautiful." Unbeknownst to Jenna, Crowley's heart rate rapidly increased and he even blushed at her words, but since humans can neither see nor know how snakes blush, it made no difference.

Very slowly so as not alarm him, the young Celestern raised her right hand and stopped about six inches from the reptile's regal head. "Is it alright if I, um..." she stammered awkwardly, unsure if or how to phrase the request.

Thankfully, Crowley understood immediately, as he nodded once rather quickly, then slowly moved his head closer to her hand until her fingers hovered millimeters above his skin. Taking a deep breath, Jenna lowered her hand slightly and felt his smooth, surprisingly warm scales. The snake closed his eyes at her touch. Smiling slightly, Jenna began gently stroking his crown, face and neck, marvelling at the soft and silky yet slightly rough texture of his skin, like smooth river rocks.

As her soft fingers tenderly brushed across his scales, Crowley felt waves of immense pleasure flow throughout his long body. This was such relaxation and bliss as he had never experienced before, even when receiving massages in his human form. Crowley leaned and arched into her hand, yearning her for to massage him harder, deep into his stiff muscles, increase his heavenly pleasure.

Jenna noticed his eagerness and started petting him like a cat, rubbing harder in certain areas depending on his reaction. Throughout this mutually pleasurable experience, Crowley hissed low and continuously, louder when she touched certain sensitive spots on his neck, but kept his eyes closed, feeling increasingly exhausted with each incredible stroke of Jenna's supple fingers. 

"Are you getting sleepy?" she asked him softly, removing her hand. He opened his eyes halfway, nodded slowly and quietly hissed, "Thankssssssss." He wanted to say so much more than that pathetic excuse for a word, but being a snake severely limited his verbal abilities to the point where he couldn't really say more than three or four simple words at a time. At the moment, he couldn't even remember any words except "I love you, Jenna," but he certainly wasn't going to say them, as he lacked the capacity to do so regardless of his physical form.

"Of course," replied Jenna sweetly as he slithered away and curled up on the floor, eyes closed and head resting on his topmost coils. "Thank you for transforming, and for letting me.....um, yeah." Jenna was about to say "pet," but that seemed both highly derogatory and suggestive, so she stopped herself. "Massage," "stroke" and "touch" were also majorly taboo, so she settled for the always reliable silence, the unsaid description of unplanned intimacy between friends.

Because that's all we are, she told herself firmly as she lay in bed 10 minutes later, after having draped a soft blanket over Crowley's sleeping snake form and turning off all the lights. Friends.


	17. In which Jenna Balances

While it was true that Crowley, in his human and demon forms, did not need to sleep, he loved and often chose to, especially after a night of heavy drinking with Aziraphale. Furthermore, if he were to remain in his snake form for at least 12 hours or so, he would physically have to catch some Z's whether he wanted to or not.

For this reason, the demon never remained a serpent for more than a few hours. Yes, sleeping was one of his top ten favorite activities, but he hated being forced to experience some arbitrary biological process when there were much more interesting things he'd rather be doing, thank you very much. He figured he was safe morphing every so often, usually just to scare annoying humans but occasionally (extremely rarely) to impress women (or rather, Celesterns) he fancied.

Unfortunately, as no one had ever touched Crowley while he was reptilian (beyond the occasional stomping foot or angelic lightning bolt), he had no way of knowing that he would fall into a profoundly deep, dreamless slumber after Jenna stroked his scales a bit last night.

Nor that he wouldn't awaken until 1 PM the next day.

"Hmmmph," groaned Crowley, rubbing his eyes and looking up blearily. He frowned: Why was there a ceiling fan above him, instead of the black canopy of his four poster bed?

The demon slowly sat up, knees bent upward, and discovered he was on his living room floor with a large gray blanket on top of him. It took a second, but once he remembered the night before, he groaned again and buried his face in his lap, gripping his long hair so tight that a few strands came loose.

"You. Fucking. Bastard," he growled into his cocoon. "What the fuck was that? All you she wanted was to see you transform, not engage in some kind of weird, kinky sex thing!" At this, his face shot up in horror. Had he manipulated, or infinitely worse, forced her to touch him?

Thankfully, his memories then returned fully and he sighed deeply with relief, flopping back on the ground. She had asked to pet him. He hadn't forced her. She was okay.

But wait! Crowley thought suddenly, sitting up again quickly with a distressed frown. You kept, like, trying to get her to.....pet you harder! Ugh! Crowley was at this point so disgusted with himself that he threw aside the blanket roughly, stood up and began searching for his phone. This has gone way too far. Aziraphale can't deny it, she's in danger. Because of me, he thought bitterly, finding his cell on the kitchen counter and pulling up the angel's number.

Just before pressing the green call button, he heard a faint noise coming from the direction of Jenna's room. Speaking of Jenna, where was she? It was currently 1:07 PM, about five hours after she was normally up and about. Had she seen him still sleeping and let him be? Had she hid in her room, terrified of seeing him again? Had she run away, finally realizing what a skeevy little perv he was?

Obviously the latter, he thought, turning back to his phone. Once again, a sound from his house guest's room stopped him, only this one was a bit less equivocal.

"AHHHHHH! WHAT THE HELL?!!"

Crowley jumped about three feet and turned in midair toward Jenna's scream and froze in a tense, half crochet position. "Jenna?" he called nervously. "Is that you? What's--"

"Crowley!" she cried, sounding a bit relieved. "Crowley, I'm sorry to yell but--AHHHHHHH!!" Jenna screamed again, even harsher than before. The demon immediately unfroze, sprinted down the hall and wrenched her door open aggressively, his body tensed and ready to kill whatever was hurting his beloved.

If only life were that simple.

Jenna was alone in her room (he could sense no presence but hers) and laying on her bed in white cotton pajamas, breathing very heavily and staring at the ceiling with wild, bloodshot eyes. Her blankets were tangled up around her bare feet, and a pillow was lying by the window, as if she had thrown it. Her left hand was as deathly pale as her agitated face, and rested on the other plushy white pillow.

"Jenna?" he said, both perplexed and terrified now. "What's going on?!"

"Crowley!" she cried again, her eyes trying to find him while her head remained on the mattress. "Crowley, thank you for coming! I can't talk much, it'll come back--"

"What will come back?!" exclaimed the demon angrily, his hands balling into fists. "I'll kill it, I swear to--"

"The pain, Crowley. The pain. If I talk to much the pain will--ach--come back," she said in a tense, hushed voice, wincing horribly and gripping the pillow.

Crowley's hands relaxed and he walked over to where she lay on the left side of the bed, nearest to the window. Kneeling down on his knees and tentatively peering into her face, he said, "I'm so sorry, Jenna. Did the pain wake you up just now?" he asked anxiously.

Tears welled up in Jenna's petrified eyes and slowly rolled down her pallid cheeks. "No," she whispered so quietly it was nearly imperceptible. "I've been up for hours--whenever I try to move, it--ugh--flares up."

"Oh my God," murmered the horrified demon. "Jenna, I'm calling 911, they'll know what to--oh, what am I saying?!" He slapped his forehead angrily and snapped his fingers, his face very hopeful.

"Is that better?" he asked eagerly when she continued to stare in terror at the ceiling, her long body trembling slightly.

"No," whispered Jenna. Crowley frowned, then tried miracling her discomfort away again, this time with more concentration and gusto. Again nothing happened: the young Celestern continued to pant and cringe occasionally as comparatively small pains wracked her tortured form. So he tried again. And again. And again. And one more time. And then again.

"I don't understand," muttered Crowley, shaking his head. "That last one should have worked at least--"

"Ahhh!" cried Jenna, shutting her eyes and twisting her torso involuntarily. "It's coming back! It's--AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

Her body writhed on the bed as she screamed in torment, so much so that she made it into her left side; Jenna then tried to form the fetal position, pressing her face to the pillow and alternatively sobbing and yelling. This lasted a good 30 seconds, after which her tense form relaxed a bit, her breathing very heavy as she awaited the next torturous wave.

Crowley just stared, still horrified, as her breathing slowed slightly and her hands unclenched. He wanted to touch and comfort her, but feared it would only intensify her suffering somehow. Hearing her scream in such agony made his blood freeze, as did watching her writhe like she was on fire while he literally sat there and did nothing, like the scumbag he was.

The demon shook his head vigorously and got out his phone again, finally calling Aziraphale. Like hell was he gonna let that happen to her again.

~

"What's going on?" demanded Aziraphale as Crowley led him into Jenna's room. "All you said was, 'Get over here now, the quick way. Emergency.' Is something wrong with Jenna?"

"Yes," hissed Crowley as they entered her room, pointing at her shaking body still curled up on its left. "There is. Why the FUCK can't I take her pain away, Angel?" he pleaded, his face wild with sorry. "She's been in awful pain since 7 this morning, I only just woke up at 1--"

"Why on Earth did you sleep in so l--"

"Can we denounce my character later and focus on the problem at hand, please?!" cried Crowley, gesturing desperately at Jenna. "The pain seems to come and go in these waves, and she said moving makes it worse. Can you heal her?" he begged, tears starting to form in his distraught yellow eyes.

Aziraphale looked very perplexed, but said he would try as he tentatively stepped over to where she lay, took a deep breath and snapped his fingers.

The only thing that happened was Jenna winced slightly and clung tighter to her pillow, face still screwed up in preparation for the inevitable torture.

"Hmmmm," frowned the angel. "Let me try that again--"

And he did try. Again and again and again. Twice more than Crowley did, when he finally got an idea. "Perhaps I need to make contact...." he murmured, carefully lowering his hand onto her forehead. Crowley bit his lower lip nervously.

As soon as the angel's white hand touched the messy hairs plastered to her sweaty face, Jenna screamed so loudly that both he and Crowley fell backwards and covered their ears. The demon involuntarily bit down on his lip so hard he drew blood.

Once Aziraphale had immediately removed his hand, she continued to groan a bit, gritting her teeth until the mysterious pain left her sobbing softly.

"What did you do?!" hissed the demon, crawling over to Aziraphale and roughly grabbing his shirt collar. He looked remarkably like a vampire, with deranged eyes and blood dripped down to his chin from his bared upper fangs. "Why did you--"

"I don't know!!" squeaked his friend, horrified and guilty. "I swear to God I was only trying to--oh sweet Jesus, what have I done?!" He wailed so pathetically that Crowley released him, content that at least now he was suffering as much as Jenna and himself.

"Crowley," whispered Jenna. The demon shot up off the floor and kneeled next to her, staring into her face.

"Yes, Jenna? What is it, darling?"

Her puffy red eyes found the blood on his lip and widened. "You're bleeding," she muttered, reaching her hand forward to help him without thinking.

"No!" cried Crowley, catching her hand and returning it to the bed. She was so cold. "You shouldn't move, sweetheart. I'm fine, see? Just breathe for me, okay?"

Jenna didn't answer, as she was too busy frowning at his hand on hers, which the demon quickly removed as if he'd been electrocuted. "I'm sorry! Did that hurt too?! Oh God, I--"

"No," whispered Jenna, still staring were his hand just was. "It felt....good. The pain lessened a bit...."

Crowley stared at her blankly. "What?" he said, extremely bemused.

Jenna groaned. "It's coming back," she hissed, the muscles in her neck tensing as she braced herself.

"Crowley," said Aziraphale, standing behind and giving him a stern look, "put your hand back."

"What?! But I--"

"Now!"

Crowley obeyed reluctantly, lightly cupping Jenna's tight fist just as she was about to cry out in severe discomfort again. Instantly, her entire body relaxed, her face melted into a relieved smile and she sighed heavily. "Thank you," she whispered, eyes closed but a few tears still leaking out slowly.

Crowley gazed at her in wonder and relief for a few moments, before whipping around to glare at the angel. "What the fu--hell is going on?!" he hissed softly, angry and confused but not wanting to upset his beloved. Aziraphale had retreated to the armchair in the corner, where he sat quickly thumbing through his ancient leather book with a troubled frown.

"I don't know," mumbled the angel, sounding just as frustrated as the demon. "I'm trying to--ah, here it is!" His electric blue eyes skimmed the paragraphs so fast it hurt Crowley's head to watch. Finally, Aziraphale looked up with a satisfied smile, walked over and kneeled next to his friend, setting the open book by them on the floor.

"She's perfectly fine," he assured Crowley soothingly, holding his hands up.

"Perfectly fine?!" hissed the demon furiously, his hand still gently covering the now sleeping Celestern's but the rest of him taut with anger and twisted toward the angel. "You call that 'perfectly fine?!" She's clearly in--"

"Severe agony, I know," finished Aziraphale, picking up the book and rereading it. "It's awful, but it's only happening because her body is Evolving to accommodate her Celesternal nature! Look," he pointed to a particularly long passage and held the book out so Crowley could see as well, "'Around the first full moon of the Celesternal cycle'--which as we know constitutes Miss Kingsley's next four months-- 'the being in question will undergo extreme physical changes wherein their angelic and demonic levels are balancing out, so that one is no longer more prominent than the other.' Apparently," he added, looking up into Crowley's slightly relieved face, "before they Evolve, almost all Celesterns embrace more of one aspect of their duality than another, as is common with most creatures. It appears that Miss Kingsley, as I suspected, has embraced much more of her angelic energy than her demonic." The angel then continued reading: 'The more imbalanced the being's levels are'--meaning the more she's unconsciously accepted her angelic nature and rejected or repressed her demonic--'the more excruciating the physical Balancing will be." Aziraphale set the book aside and waited for his friend's response.

Crowley frowned as he absorbed this crucial information, turning to watch Jenna sleep peacefully with a small, gentle smile on her lovely face. "So," he whispered after a bit, his voice a bit hoarse from hissing so aggressively, "this is a normal part of her Evolving? A-and her energy is more angelic than demonic?"

"Yes and yes," responded the angel, watching the pair intently. "That explains both why we were unable to just miracle her suffering--which I didn't at all mean to minimize--" he added apologetically.

"I know," sighed Crowley, rubbing Jenna's now fully unclenched hand lovingly as he continued to gaze at her blissful expression. "I'm sorry I snapped."

"You didn't, I just wanted to----well, that was awful for all of us," he explained, looking down with hollow eyes, "albeit in different ways."

"Yeah," acknowledged the demon, tenderly brushing the stray hairs out of her face. As his fingers lightly touched her skin again, she sighed happily and snuggled further into her fetal position.

"Well, anyway--it also explains why my touch only worsened her pain," continued Aziraphale softly.

Crowley looked back at him, his brow furrowed again. "What? I don't get it--"

"Miss Kingsley's energetic field is trying to decrease her angelic levels, not increase them," Aziraphale explained. "It is therefore much more accepting of infernal rather than celestial influences." He gestured to Crowley when he said "infernal" and himself when he said "celestial."

Realization finally dawned on Crowley's angular face. "Ahh," he said, turning back to his beloved. "That does make sense. So, me touching her is actually.....helping?" He asked this like it was the most inconceivable thing in the universe, a great cosmic joke at his expense that the Almighty had been planning for millennia.

"Not only is it helpful," began the angel, trying not to smile at his friend's lack of confidence, "it is probably the only helpful thing we, or anyone for that matter, can do for her until she is Balanced."

"Which should be--?"

Aziraphale consulted his book again. "Umm....at least 24 hours."

"24 hours?!" repeated Crowley, flabbergasted. "You mean I have to stay with her like this for--"

"Are you saying you don't want to?" asked the angel with false innocence.

Crowley glowered at him. "If you knew what I did last night," he hissed dangerously low, pointing a finger at Aziraphale, "you wouldn't have dared say that. Or be allowing this." He gestured with disgust at his hand gently resting on hers, as if it were the most depraved and leud scene in history.

Aziraphale suddenly looked very concerned, almost a bit angry. "What are you talking about?" he asked, a bit too loudly.

"Shhhh!" Crowley's glare became pleading as he anxiously pressed a finger to his lips and glanced protectively at Jenna. "Don't wake her, please!"

Aziraphale just stared at his friend in major confusion. How could this same person, who was now miracling the soft blankets over their friend's slumbering form, have also done something even one iota less than honorable?

"What is wrong with you?" Aziraphale asked Crowley, both exasperated and genuinely worried for his mental health.

Crowley sighed, then, after glancing back at Jenna to make sure she was truly asleep, told the angel everything that happened last night. How they were discussing his demonic powers, among them his shape shifting ability; how she has asked what he looked like, so he offered to show her (which he now described as terrible judgement); how he had asked to come a bit closer when she seemed unafraid (even worse); and finally, how she had asked if she could touch him, which he (according to him) immediately took advantage of in order to satisfy his physical hunger for her.

"I just kept like--leaning in to her hand," hissed Crowley, unable to look at Aziraphale as he sat, cross-legged and horrified, on the soft carpet. "I have no idea what her reaction was, or how she responded, or even what happened after that. All I remember is her asking me if I was sleepy, to which I nodded before everything went black." He told the tale with so much self-hatred and fear that it nearly suffocated the angel, who gazed at his best friend with incredible pity.

"Oh, Crowley," he sighed softly, shaking his head. "You really are quite delusional about this, aren't you?"

"I know!" the demon hissed violently, gripping his head painfully and curling into an upright ball. "I told you, I can't control these fucking urges! This is why she needs to go, I was gonna call you after I woke up, but then I hear her screaming and---I keep telling that stupid voice to shut up!" Crowley released his head and Aziraphale saw tears staining his sharp face below wide, terrified eyes. "It keeps saying I have a chance with her, that I can be near her, that---its crazy! Delusional!"

"No no no, that's not what I meant!" hissed Aziraphale, nervously glancing at Jenna as he tried to calm Crowley down. "I'm sorry Crowley, I didn't mean--just, please don't wake her up! The Balancing works so much better when the being sleeps!"

Sobs now racking his exhausted body, Crowley bit aggressively on his fist to stifle the sound. Aziraphale hugged him close, which allowed the demon to cry quietly into his chest while keeping a shaking, sweaty hand on Jenna's. The angel gently rubbed is back as Crowley released his grief and guilt.

When his crying subsided and breathing slowed, Aziraphale spoke. "What I meant," he began as Crowley pulled away, wiping off his face on his shirtsleeve and trying not to sniffle loudly, "was that you are very delusional regarding the harm and distress you believe yourself causing, or even capable of causing Miss Kingsley. Crowley opened his mouth to argue, but the angel held up a commanding hand. "Don't interrupt. Now, I heard what you said," he assured him, taking his hands and looking steadily into Crowley's red-lined eyes. "I also felt the severe lack of objectivity, so I took the liberty of visiting the memory myself just now."

Crowley looked mortified, but Aziraphale assured him, "I neither saw nor felt anything disrespectful, untoward or dangerous from you, her or between you two during the entire scene, which I did watch from beginning to end." He winced a bit, then added, "I'm sorry, I know you hate when I do that, but--"

"No no, that was good," said Crowley softly, looking partially relieved but still anxious. "I'm glad you did." He paused, then sighed, closed his eyes tightly and asked, "Can you just tell me what happened after I blacked out? I don't care how bad it was, I just want to know."

The angel smiled sweetly, putting a gentle hand on the demon's shoulder. "Crowley," he said softly. "Open your eyes." Reluctantly, Crowley complied, but found himself unable to meet Aziraphale's bright gaze.

"First of all," began the angel, "what you call 'blacking out,' the rest of us call 'sleeping very peacefully for 15 hours.'"

Crowley looked up at his friend, confusion and hope battling for dominion over his handsome features.

"Second of all," continued Aziraphale, his expression now rather amused, "from what I could tell, you didn't so much force yourself on Miss Kingsley as you did behave somewhat like a cat, wordlessly encouraging her to, erm, massage certain areas more than others by, yes, 'leaning into her hand,' but in a remarkably passive, feline way." The angel looked both uncomfortable at his words and a bit smug at his friend's mortified, blushing face.

"And, third of all," added Aziraphale as Crowley continued to resemble a tomato, "all that happened after you 'blacked out' was Miss Kingsley gazing rather fondly at you for a few minutes before glancing at the clock, placing a large grey blanket over your coils and turning off the lights as she retired."

Crowley didn't know what to say, so he just kept silent as every muscle in his body, which he didn't realize had been tightly clenched, relaxed as waves of sweet relief, peace and exhaustion overtook him. The adrenaline flooding his system began to subside, his heart rate slowed gradually and the feeling in his pinkie toes returned.

"Is that the truth?" he asked Aziraphale softly, his eyes begging for certainty.

The angel smiled. "Just ask Miss Kingsley." He gestured at the Celestern, who continued to sleep very peacefully, disturbed by neither Balancing pain nor abdominal indications that Aziraphale had been less than 100% honest.

Crowley exhaled deeply, resting his head on the bed beside Jenna and closing his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured to Aziraphale before succumbing to his extreme stress-induced exhaustion as well.

Aziraphale smiled affectionately at the pair and reflected on Jenna's love levels during her and Crowley's intimate moment last night. While not nearly as intense as the demon's towards her, nor fully romantic, they were quite a bit higher than when he'd last seen them together during dinner a few nights ago. Based on the various mortal relationships Aziraphale had subconsciously observed throughout the millennia, it appeared that Jenna definitely loved Crowley as a friend, as she did the angel, but was now also rather attracted to him, emotionally as well as physically.

But of course, he would never tell Crowley that, he decided firmly as he quietly left the room, noticing happily that the demon and Celestern's hands had readjusted to hold each other while they slept. That was not only Miss Kingsley's private business, for her alone to divulge or not, but doing so would most definitely ruin all the fun in store for both.

Before snapping his fingers to return to his bookshop, Aziraphale looked out the window and noticed two monarch butterflies dancing together as they fluttered, almost touching but then separating just as quickly.


	18. In which Jenna tells Crowley how she feels

Jenna woke up from probably the best sleep she'd ever had to the morning sun shining on her face. Blinking her eyes open, she saw light streaming through her window, as well as long, fiery red hair resting on the mattress near hers.

Frowning slightly, she pushed herself up a bit and gasped lightly: Crowley was kneeling by her bed, his head resting peacefully on the white linen sheets. Jenna then noticed something very warm enveloping her right hand. She lifted up her blankets and saw that the demon's hand was wrapped gently around hers; her thumb was gently pressed against the outside of his hand.

Memories of excruciating agony, dull knives stabbing her entire body as electric shocks ran through it and a jackhammer drilled a massive hole in her brain, flooded back to Jenna, as did the white hot pain when Aziraphale barely touched her forehead. Most prominent were recollections of the immediate, cool and soothing relief of Crowley's gentle touch, and then darkness after fervent whispers lulled her to sleep.

Smiling, she rubbed Crowley's large, protective hand with her thumb and listened to him breathing softly as she carefully lowered herself back down to the mattress. Jenna wished she could see his face (he probably looked just like an angel while he slept), but to do so would mean disturbing the sleeping demon, so she settled for gazing sleepily at the top of his head, his soft hair tickling her face a bit.

If life was fair, phones wouldn't be nearly as loud, disruptive or unpredictable as they are. But as life is not fair, at least by human standards, Crowley was rudely awakened from another incredible nap by Freddie Mercury singing "We Will Rock You" at the top of his lungs.

Jolting awake, he inadvertently clenched the hand holding Jenna's a bit too hard, causing her to yelp in discomfort.

"Ahhh!" he exclaimed upon hearing her, spinning around and falling backwards facing the bed.

"Ahhh!" cried Jenna simultaneously, holding a hand to her mouth as she watched Crowley twist and tumble backwards, his face like a scared, still sleepy meerkat's.

The duo just stared at each other in shock, breathing heavily as Crowley's ringtone continued to play a few more bars of Queen before whoever called perhaps inevitably realized they had the wrong number to begin with and hung up.

"Hi," said Jenna softly, waving at him a bit.

"Hi," said Crowley weakly and in a higher pitch than usual. Clearing his throat, he added in a rougher, much more manly tone, "Um, good morning. Sorry if my phone, uh, woke you up....." He glanced at the phone warily before swiping it off the carpet and shoving it deep in his pants pocket.

Jenna, stifling a giggle, responded, "Good morning. It didn't, I was already awake."

"Oh."

Jenna pulled the covers off her legs and sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, looking at the ground. They both stared awkwardly away from each other a bit before Jenna glanced up at him, smiling shyly. "Thank you for staying with me while I--well, while I was freaking out," she said softly, grinning apologetically. "I'm sorry for causing you and Zira so much trouble."

Crowley's eyes softened as he tilted his head slightly at her, sighed and cross his own legs on the carpet. "Jenna, you apologize more than any person, angel or any other being I've ever met," he confessed, smiling sadly, "and it has never once been necessary for you to do so."

Jenna smirked, raised an eyebrow and pointed at her stomach. "Nice try, Crowley...."

"Well, that's my truth anyway," he argued, looking at her with that queer expression that used to make her so uncomfortable. "Through no fault of your own, you were in severe pain, so much so that you couldn't move without screaming." He could barely say the words without bursting into tears again. "You weren't "freaking out," you were literally being tortured. And you never are, were or will be anything even remotely resembling a problem to us." To me, he wanted desperately to add, but knew that would make her uncomfortable so he refrained.

Jenna blushed and fiddled with the material of her pajama pants. "Thank you," she said softly. "It felt like torture," she admitted. "It was like a migraine, but times a billion and all over my body. What did Aziraphale say about it?" She looked down at him nervously.

Crowley cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. "Well, according to Celesterns for Dummies," he began with a slight grin, using Jenna's pet name for Aziraphale's ancient book, "you were Balancing your demonic and angelic levels. Before you can fully Evolve, your demon and angelic energies need to be equal. Apparently," he continued awkwardly, scratching his neck again, "the more imbalanced you are, the more painful the experience."

"Ah," said Jenna, nodding and smiling widely. "I always knew I was unbalanced--"

"Nonono! Ugh, I'm such a git, I didn't mean--" stammered the demon anxiously, waving his hands in front of him and shaking his head vigorously.

Jenna laughed. "I know, Crowley. It was a joke. Geez, you really are no fun," she chuckled as the demon rolled his eyes and laughed at himself too.

"I warned you I wasn't," he replied, his eyes twinkling.

Jenna scoffed. "Only around me," she corrected, pointing at her chest. "Anyway, what was out of balance?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "What do you think? According to Angel, your angelic levels were probably sky high compared to your demonic!"

"Oh," Jenna said softly, thinking. "I guess that's why it hurt when Zira got too close. And why it felt really good when you--" She stopped herself, turning bright red and bowing her head, allowing her long light brown hair to cover her burning face like a thick curtain.

Crowley, whose inner devil was flying dreamily around his head with large red hearts for eyes while his angel screamed, "GET OUT OF HER ROOM, YOU IDIOT!!", merely coughed lightly and said with shocking calm, "Well, I'm just glad I was able to help."

Jenna looked up and brushed the hair out of her face, which she hoped was a neutral color again. "You did more than help," she assured him emphatically. "You saved my life. Again. Thank you, Crowley." As she said his name, she felt a strange tingle in her stomach, like excitement mixed with.....lust?

Crowley just nodded. "Of course," he said softly, gazing at her once again with that strange, intimate expression.

Only it wasn't strange anymore. It was warm, admiring, proud, gentle, respectful, so many things.

It was love.

"Crowley,' said Jenna before the voices in her head grabbed back the microphone, shutting her eyes tightly and bowing her head again. "This is really hard for me to say, so I'm just gonna say it." She took a deep breath. "I know I said I didn't want to pursue a romantic relationship with you, but that was before--I mean, I never expected to stay in the same flat as you, let alone for so long--and I really like spending time with you, and now I-- well, I don't know how you feel, you probably feel a lot different now that you know me more--but I, um, would be ok with....examining things from a romantic perspective."

She paused, then groaned. "That sounds so damn clinical. I'm just trying to say that I like you, and would be interested in....dating, or....I don't know. Anyway, that's how I feel. How do you feel?" she finished, feeling like Leslie Knope talking to Ben in the World's Smallest Park.

Jenna clenched her fists and waited, terrified yet eager for his response. Would he laugh? Make a lame excuse and split? Faint? Scream? Fly out the window? Probably all five simultaneously, sang the voices snidely. That's what happens when you don't let us censor what you say. Jenna shook her head roughly, trying to ignore the brutally honest of her inner critics. Maybe you're wrong, she retorted, trying to sound confident (mentally). Maybe he'll say he feels the same way still, and then he'll kiss me again.....

Yeah, no, said the voices. You're ugly and stupid, not to mention annoying as fuck.

Yeah, you're right, Jenna mentally sighed. Let's just get it over with.

That's my girl. Then we can wallow!! We LOVE wallowing!!

I guess....

Jenna then braced herself for rejection and held her breath, praying it would come soon.

Like now.

Okay.........now.

........Now?

After what felt like multiple eons but was in fact only four minutes of pure silence, Jenna reluctantly opened her eyes, only to furrow her brow in major confusion. Crowley was still on the ground, legs crossed, but his face was now a perfect mixture of confusion, disappointment and frustration. He was staring at the carpet so seriously, like it was telling him its tragic backstory.

"Um," said Jenna, more annoyed than mortified now, "can you please respond to what I said?"

Crowley looked up in surprise, like he'd forgotten she was there. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said distractedly, still frowning in consternation. "I thought I did."

Jenna blinked. "Okay....well, what did you think you said then?"

"What I always say," he responded casually, rather calm considering his dream girl had just expressed interest in dating him.

Jenna just stared blankly at the demon. "What the hell are you talking about?" she said a bit aggressively, starting to fear for his mental stability.

To her surprise, Crowley gave her a weird look, like she was the one acting abnormal. "Well, I'm dreaming, obviously," he explained very matter-of-factly, chuckling a bit at how slow on the uptake she was this time.

Jenna's eyes widened and her face cringed a bit. "Oh no, sweetie," she said kindly, her face now full of pity rather than concern. "It's not a dream, this is real."

Crowley chuckled again, but in a sad, resigned kind of way. "That's what you say every time," he murmered, falling back into the armchair and staring despondently at the ceiling.

Jenna bit her lip, got off the bed and walked over to Crowley, standing by his head and analyzing his depressed state. "Why do you think you're dreaming?" she asked curiously.

He sighed. "You always say that too," he admitted forlornly, then answered her question, but with the air of someone who has done so many times before.

"At least once a week, I dream that you say you want us to date. Then I usually say something like, 'I must be dreaming," to which you always reply, 'No, you're not.' Lately," the demon explained, swinging his head around to gaze into her large, gorgeous eyes, "you've also started asking why I think I'm dreaming. I then tell you this story, which you try unsuccessfully to reassure me is false. After all that, we kiss and I wake up." His gaze lowered, and he was a zombie once more.

Jenna considered what he said for a minute, then replied, "So, the dream ends when we kiss?"

He nodded morosely.

"Do you ever not wake up after we kiss?"

He shook his head, then frowned up at her. "You've never asked these questions before."

In lieu of a verbal response, Jenna placed her hands on each side of Crowley's beautiful face and kissed him gently on the mouth. As much as she wanted to deepen the kiss (his lips were so warm), she released the demon after only a brief moment and smiled down at his shocked expression.

"See? It's not a dream," she said softly, gesturing around the room. "We're both still here, even though we kissed."

Crowley blinked rapidly, and looked away in concentration, as though trying really hard to solve a complex math problem. Suddenly, he had a burst of energy and jumped off the chair, spinning around to examine his surroundings like a terrified cat. When he saw that everything had remained the same as before the kiss, he looked into Jenna's very amused face, her eyes shining like the stars he helped create.

"It's not a dream," he muttered, still staring at her and the room apprehensively.

"No, it's not," agreed Jenna, with the air of a teacher rewarding a student who answered a history question correctly. "Which means......a response would be just awesome, if you don't mind," she added wryly.

Crowley's eyes widened in horror as he realized that, as this was indeed not his recurring dream, the following were true:

1\. Jenna Kingsley, the smartest, sweetest and most beautiful being in the universe, just said she wanted to date him.

2\. Not only did he not properly respond with a sacrificial lamb, blood offering or other form of gratitude that this flawless goddess would even consider dating him, but he insulted her further by dismissing her eloquent, heartfelt confession as a mere sleep-induced hallucination

3\. He was a total and complete wanker.

4\. He should really answer her. Like, NOW. 

Crowley took a deep, steadying breath, gently took Jenna's hands in his and stared very deeply into her hypnotic blue/green irises.

"Jenna," he said in a low, clear voice, his face completely serious. I am so, so incredibly sorry. Please forgive my thickness and insensitivity, I genuinely thought I was dreaming."

Jenna nodded and smiled kindly. "I know, Crowley. It's okay, I get it."

"Thank you," sighed the demon. His expression then changed as he moved a bit closer to her, moving his hands slowly up her arms. "However, as it has been quite pleasurably confirmed that I am not..." His hands traveled up her shoulders and neck, sending delightful shivers up her spine. They came to rest on her cheeks, which Crowley cupped tenderly as he gazed at her with a tantalizing mixture of love, admiration and lust.

"In regards to your question, 'How do I feel,'" he began in a silky, intimate tone, "I feel more in love with and intensely attracted to you than ever. You think my adoration could diminish by being with you in person?" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he gently stroked her left cheek with his thumb. "I could live 10,000 more years, never seeing you again, and my love would remain unchanged."

Soft tears began forming in Jenna's enraptured eyes as she felt the truth of his unbelievable confession. However, she didn't even blink to release them, so intoxicated was she with his swirling, molten golden pools of desire.

"I also feel euphoric, unworthy and terrified that you like me in any way," he continued, smiling slightly, "and, despite the fact that I will never deserve you, I simply cannot resist accepting your invitation to date you. I just want you to know," he continued, biting his lower lip and looking a bit nervous again, "that I expect nothing from you, or this relationship. My feelings and, um, attraction to you are quite....overwhelmingly powerful, but the absolute last thing I want to or will do is pressure you to rush things or go farther than you want to."

As Crowley desperately tried to decipher her enigmatic expression and thus reaction to his confession, Jenna's desire for him rise so high it made her feel dizzy. Before she could verbally respond in a mature, sensible manner to the demon, Jenna threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately and freely on his warm, willing lips.

Without hesitation Crowley closed his eyes and embraced her, hugging her soft curves to him as he ran his hands up and down her back. Their tongues danced beautifully and effortlessly once more as they tasted and explored each other's mouths. Jenna's ran her fingers through the demon's long, silky hair, causing him to moan in pleasure. He then began kissing and gently nibbling on her jawline, then right earlobe, then neck in exciting yet very comfortable ways. Jenna closed her eyes, lightly gasping and moaning as Crowley suckled her sensitive, virgin skin, untouched by any before. He was so gentle and careful, yet he inspired such unbridled passion and hunger she had never felt before. As far as Jenna was concerned, this was Heaven.

"I love you so much, my beautiful angel," whispered Crowley into her neck, his hot breath only increasing her libido. "I know you don't feel the same, you don't have to respond---I just wanted to tell you."

"Oh Crowley," she whispered back, stroking his hair with her left hand as new tears fell from her eyes. "I love being with you, and I feel so much passion for you."

That was her truth, where she was at holistically, and Crowley couldn't care less that it was different from his. He hadn't expected her to say anything, let alone use the word "love" in any regard or reciprocate even one iota of his incomparable desire for her. He just smiled, lightly kissed the crook of her neck again and gazed lovingly into her blue/green orbs, shining like the sun reflected on seawater.

"Thank you, my darling," he said softly. "You don't have to say--"

"It's true," she assured him, resting her head on his chest. "I'm not in love yet, nor have I ever been--but I've also never felt this strongly about anyone before."

The only word that Crowley and his inner demon and angel, who had just reawoken after fainting dead away about ten minutes ago, registered was 'yet:' the suggestion, even remote, that the illustrious being who had stolen his heart years ago might one day offer hers in exchange.

The two lovebirds just stood there, breathing deeply with arms wrapped tightly around each other, for what seemed like hours, and would have continued to do so all day if Crowley's phone, which still had not learned how to properly read the room, began blaring Queen again.

Jenna felt and heard a low, guttural sound emanate from Crowley's chest to his mouth as his muscles tensed around her protectively.

She laughed. "Are you growling at your phone?" she asked teasingly, leaning away so she could grin up at him.

Crowley looked extremely annoyed as he removed the infernal contraption from his pocket, glaring at the ceiling the whole time, and tossed it unceremoniously onto her bed. "I am not growling at my phone," he argued, now smirking at her playfully and gently pushing her head back onto his chest before hugging close once more. "I am growling at the poor insipid mortal who dared to interrupt the best moment of my life, probably just to sell me life insurance." He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Which you don't need," added Jenna, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly at the warmth of his muscular, long body.

"Exactly, which I don't need." He closed his eyes as well and listened to her heartbeat, much slower and steadier right now than his own.

Once again, the demon and Celestern were in their own private bubble of sleepy snuggles until Freddie Mercury decided otherwise.

"Alright, that's it," growled Crowley, securing Jenna with one arm as he aggressively swiped his offensive cellular device and prepared to melt it with Hellfire.

"Wait!" cried Jenna, guessing his intentions and placing her hand over the iPhone. "That's stupid, it's a $1,200 phone--"

"Yeah, with an attitude!" argued the demon, waving the phone around a bit.

Jenna groaned and lightly headbutted his chest in exasperation. "You should at least check to see who's calling, idiot!" she continued, staring up at him like he was crazy. "What if it's important?"

"But it's not important, Jenna!" he whined, sounding remarkably juvenile and hugging her tightly again. "This is important!"

Jenna sighed and chuckled, the sound muffled against his torso. "Okay, okay, compromise," she offered, gently pushing him away and looking up at him firmly. He reluctantly released her, really only because she obviously wanted him too, and tried to keep his face neutral but to Jenna he looked like a disappointed child who didn't get the puppy he wanted on Christmas morning.

"I know you're sad," she sympathized. He shrugged and tried to look cool but failed so miserably Jenna nearly burst into raucous, inappropriate laughter. Stopping herself just in time, the Celestern continued, "How bout this: you check who called, listen to any voicemails, call them back--"

"Oh I'll call them back," he muttered menacingly, glaring daggers at the phone. "I'll call them back so hard they'll wish they'd never been--"

"--and I will get some water," interrupted Jenna in a sarcastically cheery voice rolling her eyes, "as I have not drunk anything in 36 hours and am severely dehydrated."

Crowley immediately turned to her with a deeply anxious, horrified expression. "Oh my God, I completely forgot!" he cried, his eyes panicking as he noticed that he forgot to magically refill her glass. "I'm so sorry darling, let's get you some--"

"I am perfectly capable of getting my own H2O, thank you very much," she reassured the frantic demon, smiling in exasperation. "You have your hands full with, all this." Jenna cringed and gestured vaguely at Crowley's whole being, which snickered a bit as she did so. "Let's just meet in the living room later, 'kay?"

Crowley nodded, still checking at her dry humor. "That's fine love, just get your water. Freddie and I will be fine," he assured her, holding up his left hand containing the phone and placing his right over his heart.

Jenna's brow crinkled. "What did you just say?"

Crowley frowned in confusion, then hurriedly clarified, "Oh, I was just kidding. I don't really name my stuff, I just thought--"

"No no, before that," she interrupted impatiently. "What did you call me?"

Crowley thought back, then paled with severe mortification. "Oh, um, nothing," he replied hastily, looking inordinately guilty.

Jenna narrowed her eyes. "That's not true," she stated firmly.

"Yes, it is."

"No it's not."

"You're just delirious from lack of hydration, love. Let's get you--"

"There! There, you said it again! You did say it!" Jenna pointed at him triumphantly, a vibrant smile on her flushed face.

Crowley's white pallor turned beet red in 2.01 seconds before he groaned, "Oh G-,S-, Manchester, how did I screw it all up so fast?"

Jenna did burst out laughing this time and gave Crowley a tight, surprising hug. "You didn't screw anything up, sweet boy," she assured him, smiling beautifully as she released him and saw his perplexed expression. "That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever called me!"

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Really? Y-you mean you like it?"

"I love it," Jenna corrected him, pecking him on the cheek. "Please use frequently. Alright, good luck with Freddie!" she called happily, skipping out to the kitchen.

Crowley stood dumbfounded for at least 45 seconds, staring at the empty doorway and lightly touching the spot where she'd just kissed him. He would have probably continued to do so all day if his persistent caller didn't try one more time to spoil the most amazing day of his 6,000 years.

Growling and ready to unleash Hell on whoever disturbed him, Crowley checked the screen and gasped, his furious visage suddenly mortified. Gulping audibly, the demon cringed, braced himself for an onslaught of embarrassment and answered the call.

"Hello, Angel," he said, trying desperately to sound normal but feeling like a kid who just broke a window while playing baseball (wow, he'd never been on the other end of that one before!)

"Crowley, what on Earth is going on?!" demanded Aziraphale in a very agitated manner. "I have been calling you all morning, why are you just now getting back to me at 11 AM?"

"Ah." So it was Aziraphale all along. Crowley felt a bit worse about all the awful things he planned to do to his previously anonymous caller, but not much. "Sorry bout that, got distracted. We, uh--" he stammered, not at all sure how to explain what occurred.

"Oh, never mind," huffed the extremely annoyed angel. "How is Miss Kingsley?"

"Oh, she's good! Great! Yeah, better than ever, just getting some water now," he assured him, relieved for the subject change.

"Oh thank God," sighed Aziraphale. "I am so glad. Did she sleep all this time?"

"I think so. I think we both did," he added without thinking.

"Really?" asked Aziraphale, confused. "Why did you sleep so much? Are you ill?"

Crowley sighed, frustrated. Concern had infiltrated the angel's agitated tone and he didn't like it. "I'm fine, Aziraphale," he said firmly, looking toward the kitchen and hoping to get off soon. "There's nothing wrong--"

"Then why does your aura feel so different?"

"What have I told you about feeling my aura?!" hissed the demon, lowering his voice. "Its none of your--"

"Why are your happiness levels so--"

"Aziraphale!" snapped Crowley, a bit too loudly. "I'm warning you--"

"Oh, is that Zira?" called a hopeful female voice.

Crowley whipped around just in time to see Jenna walking down the hall like a supermodel, her luscious hair floating behind her slightly. "Can I talk to him when you're done?" she asked Crowley brightly, leaning into the doorway. "I forgot to ask him to bring a specific book Thursday night."

Crowley gulped, torn between his anger and embarrassment regarding Aziraphale's astute observations and sudden distraction at how freaking gorgeous Jenna was. "Um, sure," he finally said, moving the phone to the right side of his chest so that Aziraphale couldn't hear his heart thumping madly. "I'll be out in just sec."

She waited, giving him a meaningful look.

He frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she sighed, turning to leave with exaggerated sadness. "I was just hoping you'd call me 'love' again. But it's okay!" Jenna sang playfully as she skipped back to the living room. "We have the rest of eternity for that!"

As much as her words gave Crowley fantastic abdominal butterflies, they also made him glance nervously at the phone and consider hanging up, never to see his best friend again. When he decided this was neither appropriate nor feasible, Crowley reluctantly raised the cell to his ear and asked tentatively, "You still there?"

"Oh, I most certainly am, love," teased Aziraphale before succumbing to a fit of giggles.

Crowley groaned. "Oh shut it," he hissed, glowering at the carpet and shoving his other hand in his pocket. "It's not at all what you think, you know--"

"All I think is that my curmudgeonly best friend of 6,000 years has finally expressed his undying love and devotion to my much newer but far more sophisticated and emotionally mature friend," Aziraphale assured him, though still chuckling a bit, "and that the latter returns his affections, at least in part. Am I correct?"

Crowley grunted. "It's more like, "The latter appears for the time being to somewhat tolerate the former against all odds," but other than that it's pretty spot on," he grumbled.

Aziraphale scoffed. "That's certainly not the impression I got from her aura just now!"

Crowley growled again. "You stay away from her aura too, you freak!"

Aziraphale sighed in exasperation. "We've been over this, Crowley: I'm an angel, which means I can't help but sense other brings' emotional and energetic states. Believe me, if I could disable this rather intrusive and maddening power, I would have done so three seconds after incorporating."

Crowley pouted for a few seconds, then muttered, "I know. Sorry. Maybe I'm just jealous," he admitted reluctantly, his heart softening at the idea of sensing Jenna Kingsley's magnificent aura.

Aziraphale snorted. "Oh believe you me, there's nothing of which to be jealous! It's almost always hatred, pain, greed, desperation, panic, fear, anxiety--the only time I give thanks for this celestial skill is when I come across people in love. Like--"

"She's not in love with me," interrupted Crowley firmly, though it pained his heart to say so. "She barely knows me."

"That's true," admitted the angel. "I can tell she's not. But there's so much love blooming between the two of you, I don't see why it can't--"

"I can't think about that, it'll drive me mad," confessed Crowley. "This is infinitely more than I ever dreamed would occur. Whatever ends up happening, which she will decide, this is already so much more than I deserve."

Aziraphale sighed, gentler this time. "Well, I don't agree with that last bit, but the rest sounds remarkably mature and respectful."

"Gee, thanks," said the demon sarcastically. "Two of my favorite words."

Aziraphale chuckled. "Well, I'd better leave you two alone. Third wheel and all that."

"That would have been sublime," admitted Crowley casually, "if you hadn't interrupted us three times by phone, then annoyed me so much you made me say your actual name out loud, causing Jenna to remember she needs to talk to you and basically screwing up the whole day."

"Oh, yes. I forgot. Be a dear and put her on, will you?"

Crowley hissed loudly at the angel, but complied. He found Jenna sitting cross-legged on his couch, drinking some hot tea and flipping through one of his old Mad Magazines.

"Here," he said, handing her the phone. "It's our lovely little stalker."

"Thank you, darling," she lilted, smiling sweetly and batting her large, oceanic eyes flirtatiously at him. Crowley blushed scarlet, cleared his throat and left for his room, mumbling something about wanting to give her privacy but really just off to take a very cold shower.

"Hey, Zira!" greeted Jenna, carefully replacing the magazine on the coffee table and hugging a pillow to her chest. "How are you?"

"I believe the much more pressing question is, how are you, my dear?"

Jenna waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, I'm fine. I mean, I guess I slept for almost two whole days, but other than that I feel perfectly normal again."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that directly from you, my dear!" cried the angel cheerfully. "And how is...erm...everything else?" He didn't want to pressure her into telling him about her and Crowley's relationship if she wasn't ready, but he was also terribly impatient and overjoyed for both of them.

"Well," began Jenna, glancing furtively in the direction Crowley left before adjusting her legs on the couch in a crossed position, setting aside the pillow and smiling with great excitement, "I don't know what Crowley already told you, but there has been an....interesting development this morning, to say the least."

"Well," admitted Aziraphale, smiling just as widely from his bookshop, "to be honest, Crowley did mention something, but as he is quite ineloquent and, well, frankly extremely stupid about these things when it comes down to it, I was hoping to get the full story from you."

Jenna's eyes twinkled with peace and mischief as she agreed, "Yeah, that's probably best. So, anyway....."


	19. In which Crowley and Jenna have their first date

Jenna stood nervously in front of the full-length mirror in her bathroom, fidgeting with the shoulder straps and rather short hemline of her new black dress.

Tonight was her first date with Crowley, him having formally asked her out after she finished gabbing about their new relationship to Aziraphale. As she wasn't able to leave the house (if anyone even opened the front door or a window in the demon's spacious flat, the Concealment Aura would weaken and expose her temporarily human scent to nefarious outside forces), Jenna had no idea what Crowley had planned.

While she enjoyed fantasizing about their date over the next day and a half, at the moment its itinerary was the last thing on her excited but frazzled mind.

"Okay," Jenna said to her reflection after taking a deep breath. "You got this. You've been on, well, one date before--" she cringed a bit as she noted this, "--which means you know what to expect. Sort of. Just dinner, movie, whatever, with a guy. Well, technically a hot, sexy, British, supercool demon, but, a guy nonetheless. A guy with whom you've had over 15 dinners and watched several awful films. You can do this."

Jenna smiled confidently at herself, smoothed her dress once more and exited her bathroom, turning off the light. Her purple bedroom curtains were drawn, but she could still glimpse the darkened street and park outside as she slid her feet into red heels. She then sat nervously on the edge of her armchair and tried not to hyperventilate.

About two minutes later, precisely at 7 PM, Jenna heard a light knock at her door. Grinning as butterflies filled her stomach, she quickly walked to the door, trying not to fidget with her dress as she did so.

When Jenna opened the door, she saw a very handsome, debonair Crowley standing nervously and holding a huge bouquet of brilliant red roses. He wore a white color shirt, black slacks and matching jacket, shiny dress shoes and stunned expression as he took in her appearance.

"Hi," said Jenna, smiling nervously.

"Oh yeah, uh, h-hi," Crowley stammered, his eyes like saucers as he gazed at her long hair swept up into a bun, silky black dress that accentuated her natural curves and sexy red heels, not to mention the elegant necklace whose large emerald rested dangerously close to her cleavage. "You look.....wow. I mean you always look fantastic, just tonight it's.....wow."

Jenna giggled and smiled very prettily, revealing a rare glimpse of her perfect little white teeth. "Thanks, you're sweet. You look 'wow' too," she added, gesturing at the demon's uncharacteristically neat appearance.

Crowley shook his head, staring intensely into her eyes as he replied in a low, serious voice, "Not compared to you."

Jenna blushed a deep magenta and looked away, surprised at the pleasant tingling his words inspired in her most sensitive areas.

Crowley, worrying he had overstepped a boundary and mentally flaying himself for it, cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Sorry, uh, these are for you," he said nervously, offering the flowers to Jenna, who smiled widely and gratefully accepted them.

"Oh my gosh, they're gorgeous!" she gushed, deeply inhaling one of the rose bud's heady, luscious scent. "Thank you so much, I love roses!"

"I'm glad you like them," replied Crowley, grinning affectionately as she dawned over the bouquet. He wanted to add that he knew she loved roses, red in particular, and how he was so honored and excited to be the first person to give them to her romantically, but didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable (plus, he was chicken).

"I love them," Jenna corrected him, smiling so sweetly into the demon's slightly anxious face. "Thank you, Crowley."

"My pleasure," he said softly, then turned around and offered his arm to her. "Shall we, my lady?"

"But of course, my good sir," she responded in her best British accent, which was surprisingly good. She then closed her bedroom door, tucked her freezing left arm under Crowley's and followed him down the hallway toward the unlit living room.

"So, what's first?" asked Jenna, feeling curious, excited and a bit playful. "Dinner at the Ritz, I presume."

"Oh yes, and after, dancing at the new jazz club over on 5th," replied Crowley brightly, now guiding her through the darkness to the dining room. "That is, unless you'd rather just stick your beautiful face out the window and scream, 'Hey, Heaven and Hell! You know that undocumented Nephilim you're looking for?! Well, here she is, come and get 'er!'"

Jenna laughed and lightly nudged him with her arm. "Oh yeah, that. Must have slipped my mind. Guess we're staying in!"

"Guess so," agreed Crowley as they reached the long dining table, which tonight was adorned with two tall white lit tapers, pristine white china, gleaming silver cutlery and a white linen tablecloth.

"Oh, it's lovely," murmured Jenna as she admired the dimly lit setting. Crowley just smiled to himself as she released Jenna's long, bare arm and pulled out her chair for her, motioning for her to sit.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," she simpered, curtseying slightly before sitting down and allowing the demon to slide her toward the table.

Crowley chuckled and snapped his fingers as he sauntered toward the opposite end of the dining table. Immediately, soft, jazzy piano melodies began playing smoothly in the background. 

Jenna smiled. "Nice touch," she remarked, gesturing toward the speakers. "Reminds me of this incredibly fancy Italian restaurant back home, near our apartment. Mel and I really want to go but it's so expensive. God, what's the name again? Something with a P--"

"Passeggiatta?" suggested the demon innocently, tilting his head to the left and grinning at Jenna very mischievously as he placed his ivory linen napkin on his lap.

Jenna's oceanic eyes widened and eyebrows flew up in momentary surprise, but quickly relaxed as she scoffed and shook her head at Crowley. "I should've known," she murmured, smiling in exasperation and admiration at her exceptionally attentive and thoughtful suitor.

His golden eyes twinkled merrily and he couldn't help but smile at her adorable reaction to his first surprise. She was just so damn cute!!

"Trust me, it's not nearly as fancy as the prices make it seem," Crowley insisted. "Subpar food, rude waiters, terrible wine--take my advice and avoid it like the plague."

Jenna pretended to reluctantly consider his proposal, then replied, "Well, seeing as you have had experience with both Passeggiatta and probably several plagues, I'm inclined to take your advice." She grinned mischievously.

Crowley laughed. "Oh, more than several," he assured her, "but I'll spare you the details. Anyway," he continued, rubbing his hands together eagerly, "I took the liberty of mentally preparing what I, in my infinite wisdom, believe is an Italian meal truly worthy of such ridiculous prices." He hesitated, looking very nervous. "I, um, sort of have a general idea what you like as well, so--"

"Crowley, whatever you have planned is fine," Jenna assured him, smiling. "I also have literally no idea what I want, so it's fine with me if you, I guess the term would be, order for me?"

Crowley smiled in relief. "Thanks," he sighed, his eyes and grin now a bit apologetic and embarrassed. "I know it's pretty shitty to order for your date, especially if you're a man and you and she haven't been dating long--or at all--" he added under his breath, looking even more embarrassed. "I just got so into planning the dinner that I--"

"Totally get it," Jenna assured him emphatically with her voice and raised hands. "Just think of it like you're cooking for us, and don't give it another thought, okay?"

Crowley nodded gratefully and grinned stupidly. "Thanks, Jenna. I appreciate it. And, if you absolutely detest my choice in cuisine," he added playfully, pointing at her with one long finger, "please feel free to verbally abuse me on social media as yet another douchebag who ruins the dating experience for everyone."

Jenna tilted her head and looked up, as though in deep and serious thought, before replying with a deadpan expression, "Ok, that seems fair."

Both then smiled broadly and snickered at their banter for a moment.

Crowley then chuckled, "Alright, enough frivolity. Signorina," he lilted, his eyes smoldering as he addressing Jenna in a low, surprisingly seductive Italian accent that sent shivers down her spine, "may I present, for your dining pleasure, parmigiana di melanzane con insalata caprese?"

Magically, the delightful aroma of breaded and cooked eggplant, fresh tomato sauce, warm mozzarella and sweet yet acidic balsamic dressing on a bright green and red salad filled Jenna's lungs as she deeply inhaled the sinfully rich, savory food in front of her. She closed her eyes, enjoying the comforting scent of one of her favorite meals as Crowley intently observed her satisfaction with both relief and arousal at her pleasured expression.

When she opened her gorgeous eyes, so full of light and peace, and fixed him with such a lovely and innocent smile, he felt immeasurably guilty for feeling such inappropriate things for her, but couldn't resist loosing himself in her incredible twin oceans.

"This is perfect," Jenna said earnestly. "Don't worry, if I post anything tonight it'll only be about how incredibly thoughtful and talented my date is."

Crowley's face burned crimson when she referred to him as her date; trying and failing to gracefully recover, he simply cleared his throat sharply and said a bit hoarsely with a weak grin, "Glad to hear it. Buon appetito, signorina."

"Grazie mille, signor," replied Jenna, her throaty Italian accent exciting him even more than his did her. Taking a deep, steadying breath and reminding himself internally to keep it the fuck together and stop acting like a hormonal 16-year-old boy, Crowley then watched anxiously as his extremely attractive (Stop thinking like that! his inner angel warned him) date tried the food he had spent hours miracling and then donating to homeless shelters (he knew Jenna would take the mickey out of him if he threw away 20 perfectly good Italian dinners) in preparation for this exact moment.

"Mmmmm!" Jenna moaned with pleasure, which did not help Crowley adhere to his angel's advice in the slightest. "This is SERIOUSLY," she continued emphatically, pointing at the meal with her fork and staring at him with wide, shocked eyes, "the best meal I have ever had, bar none."

"Wow," said a smiling Crowley, attempting to keep his cool as his demon once again belted "We Are the Champions" while his angel massaged its temples. "That's high praise coming from someone who's eaten roughly three meals a day, 365 days a year for almost 25 years."

Jenna laughed. "Yeah, but most of that's been Cheerios and old Chinese leftovers," she assured him. "Which, trust me, doesn't even compare to what you've just cook--er, created."

"Glad it's at least better than Cheerios," he replied with a teasing grin, which earned him another adorable giggle from the bring of his dreams.

"Yeah, that's always nice to hear. Um, what do you have?" asked Jenna, frowning at the weird brown and lime green mass on his plate.

Crowley looked down at his rather unappetizing meal. "To be honest, I don't know," he admitted casually, poking at the fleshy noodles curiously with his fork, "but it's either Shrimp Scampi or Spinach Tortellini."

"Yeah, it's definitely not," Jenna replied, cringing as the brown stuff moved gelatinously when he picked up his plate to examine it at eye level. "I've had both dishes and unless they've both gotten really disgusting in the last year--"

"Well, we do cook differently on this side of the pond, you know," Crowley reminded her with a serious expression as the lime green fuzz began smoking slightly.

"Yes, but I thought America was responsible for bastardizing foreign cuisine."

"You learned it from us," he replied dismissively, waving his hand over the smoke and frowning slightly. "Hmm, that's not supposed to happen," he muttered under his breath, only slightly bothered that his food had erupted into flames.

"Ah yes. Cherries Jubilee," Jenna teased, trying to keep a straight face as Crowley stared, dumbfounded at his miniature inferno. "How did I not recognize it sooner...."

"Okay, this is rubbish," the demon admitted, snapping his fingers and vanishing the snafu once the fire began spreading to the tablecloth. "I'll just have a bread stick or something. Anyway, what would you like to drink?" he asked Jenna cheerfully, holding up his hands in preparation to snap again as if nothing even remotely strange had just occurred.

Jenna stifled a giggle. "Water, please," she said, smiling behind her hand.

Room temperature water instantly filled not just her wine glass, but his as well. Jenna frowned at Crowley and gestured at his glass. "Thank you for mine, but Crowley, come on! If you can't at least have the mystery pyrotechnic display of your dreams," she continued, elicited a spontaneous laugh from the demon, "you should at least be able to drink whatever you want! I'm serious, you know I don't care if--"

"I know, I know," he assured her, still chuckling heavily and holding up his hands. "It's not that. I just--well--" Crowley paused, unsure how to proceed until his tiny demon suddenly wrenched the internal microphone from his mental grasp. "Let's just say you've intoxicated me enough with your beauty."

The words left his lips before he could stop them. Crowley, pale and mortified, quickly looked away and bit his lip, wishing he could simultaneously reverse the past so this never happened and murder his inner demon in the most painful way posdible.

Upon hearing Crowley's compliment, Jenna blushed a deep scarlet that matched her heels, which she also began staring at fervently. No one had ever said something so sweet about her appearance before, and spite of her shyness, a flattered smile still played about her crimson lips. 

"Thank you," Jenna said softly, glancing up at the distraught demon. Crowley's mesmirizing golden eyes met her solemn, dark blue/green ones, and they shared a precious, intimate moment of eternal longing, new sensations and humanity.

As previously stated, phones are selfish, diabolical creatures that seek to spoil any and all moments of meditation, solitude or blossoming first love. That being said, it should come as no surprise that Crowley and Jenna were once again interrupted by an annoyingly loud ringtone, though Freddie had nothing to do with this one.

Both lovebirds jumped in surprise and Jenna whipped her head around to find her new iPhone indeed screaming for her attention on the counter.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" Jenna cried to Crowley, her beautiful eyes now full of shame and frustration as the default ringtone continued blaring unashamedly. She pushed herself away from the table and made to stand up. "I should have turned it off, just a min--"

"It's fine, Jenna," he assured her with a genuine smile, motioning for her to stay seated. "Allow me." He snapped his long fingers and her phone, which had stopped ringing, immediately appeared in her open right hand. Before she could thank him, Jenna saw that Mel had called and blanched.

"Is something wrong?" Crowley asked worriedly, very concerned with her distressed expression. When she didn't answer, just stared fearfully at the once-again ringing phone as if it might bite her, he got up and insisted, "You should answer it, I'll give you some privacy--"

This seemed to snap Jenna out of her trance. "No, no, i-it's fine," she stammered, looking up at him nervously. "Please stay. I, um, well--would it really be alright if I--"

"Absolutely," Crowley assured her emphatically. "I'm sorry if I scared you before when I, y'know, threatened to melt my phone when it rang yesterday morning. I have nothing against cellular devices in general," he assured her earnestly, placing his right hand over his heart, "nor any problem with you answering that clearly extremely important call immediately." He nodded at the phone and gave her a meaningful look.

Jenna smiled weakly, her nerves still buzzing because it wasn't at all him she was afraid of. The young Nephilim then stood up, walked a few feet away (though she knew it would make no difference, doing so helped her feel less embarrassed and, frankly, guilty) before taking a deep breath and reluctantly answering Mel's fourth call.

"Hey, can we talk later? Now's not a great--"

"What the FUCK is going on over there?" boomed an aggressive, low voice. "I've been calling and texting you for hours, and now that I finally discover that you are, in fact, not dead, you tell me you can't talk?"

Jenna sighed. "Okay, drama queen. First, it was 3 texts and 4 calls in a 10-minute period. Second, of course I'm not dead; I owe you money! And third, I'm kind of with someone right now, so--"

Mel scoffed in disbelief. "Excuse me, with someone? Aren't you, like, extremely contagious? Unless that someone is a doctor in a hazmat suit or Bubble Boy--"

"I'll explain later, okay?!" Jenna hissed apprehensively, glancing at Crowley to see how bored and/or annoyed he was at the moment. (For the record, he objectively looked and in fact was only curious and worried, but Jenna only glimpsed his expression and assumed he was frowning with impatience)."I'm feeling a lot better, very safe and still quarantining, it's just--I'll call you back tomorrow!"

There was a pause on the other end. "Ohhhhh," said Mel after a bit. "I get it."

Jenna cocked an eyebrow. "Get what?"

"You're cozyin' up to a fellow patient, aren't you?" she teased, her voice no longer angry but now seeped in sexual innuendo.

Jenna blushed. "What?! That's not--"

"Remember to use protection!" Mel cried in a sing-song voice.

Jenna's magenta face burned even darker as she raised her voice and replied, "Oh, I'm going through a tunnel! You're breaking up! Bye!" She immediately hung up and turned off the phone, held it to her chest for a few seconds and threw it on the couch rather haphazardly before returning to the dining table, smiling as placidly as she could. "Sorry about that," she said in a falsely cheerful tone, eyes blank and mortified. "That was Mel, she just gets a bit--delusional sometimes."

Crowley nodded, still frowning in concern (NOT impatience, just for the record). "Is everything ok?" he asked in a low voice.

Jenna initially relaxed at his question and tone, since neither gave any indication that he had heard Mel's final comment, until she realized she actually had to answer the former. Biting her lip nervously, the Nephilim hesitated for a moment before deciding honesty was the best policy and replied, "In the sense that no one is in physical or emotional harm, yes. In the sense that she will harass me mercilessly later regarding the "someone" I'm currently with?" She narrowed her eyes and shook her head at the demon. "Not so much."

Crowley smiled kindly. "I understand," he said, his handsome face relaxing. "She looks out for you."

Jenna scoffed dryly. "Yeah, a little too much," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "I can't go five seconds lately without her checking up on me like I'm some stupid teenager!"

"Well, you are in a foreign country," reasoned Crowley, taking a sip of water and removing a long, buttery breadstick from a tan basket near the table's center, "unable to return home because you're stricken with an incredibly contagious disease."

"I guess," admitted Jenna reluctantly, returning to her food. "She's just like this at home too, especially when it comes to men and dating. Always jumps to ridiculous conclusions when, I don't know, we run into a mutual guy friend at the store, or someone we barely knew from high school who pretends to remember that I tutored him in Spanish briefly."

Jenna took a large bite of eggplant parmesan and sighed in frustration as she chewed methodically. After swallowing, she continued, "She always goes on and on about how they were "totally flirting with me" when they asked us both to get coffee, and how I need to be careful around city guys." Jenna rolled her eyes and added without thinking, "As if I haven't been asked out by one guy during the course of my entire pathetic life, who took me out once before ghosting me."

Upon realizing what she just uttered in the presence of a sizzling hot, clearly very experienced demon from Hell, Jenna's eyes widened in horror and her face paled quickly. Groaning and burying her face in her right hand, unable to look at her date, she hissed, "God, I'm such a freak. Why can't I just shut up?"

Crowley would have immediately gone over to comfort and vehemently disagree with her if he had heard these last words. As it was, he was currently so deep in thought that he heard nothing but the wheels turning rapidly in his brain as he frowned at his plate in confusion.

"Hang on," he finally said, holding up a hand while still looking down. "Are you talking about Josh Blake?"

Jenna, who had been expecting the longest and most humiliating silence of her young life before Crowley mumbled some excuse and disappeared, looked up at him in utter shock. "What?" she said, mirroring his confusion comically well.

"Is the guy you're referring to Josh Blake?" he repeated impatiently, still holding up an arm (elbow rested on the table) rather aggressively but now looking at her with mingled anger and disbelief.

Jenna just stared back at Crowley like he was crazy. "Um, yes," she replied, eyes wide with concern and agitation.

Crowley's expression darkened as he glanced down momentarily before looking back up. "So, you're telling me," he began in a slow, dangerously low voice, "that that skeevy little worm didn't even call you back after making out with you?!"

Jenna stared in continued shock at his furious and appalled expression. "Um, did you miss the part where said I'm a woman in her mid-twenties who's only been on one date, which did not lead to fruition?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Crowley dismissed her words with an irritated wave of his hand. "I don't care, that doesn't matter. What does matter," he continued, leaning forward slightly and narrowing his eyes menacingly, "is that you give me his address, phone number and a list of his worst fears. You know what?" he said suddenly, not even waiting for an answer. "Never mind. I'll find it myself. He still lives in the US, right?"

Completely at a loss for words, Jenna just stared at Crowley for ten seconds, during which he also froze in a rather awkward, restless pose, before exclaiming loudly, "Why the Hell doesn't it matter to you?! I basically just admitted that I'm both a virgin and a nerdy loser who can't keep a guy to save her life!! How does that not matter to you?! Look at you!" She gestured emphatically to him.

Crowley's manic expression softened to mere confusion once again as he tilted his head and asked curiously, "What do you mean?"

"You are a freaking gorgeous demon who's had 6,000 years with history's most fascinating, worldly and beautiful people!" cried the Nephilim with enormous frustration at his obtuseness, gesturing wildly with her hands. "I mean, come on! YOU probably don't even know how many people you've been with at this point! Why the HELL would you want to go from Cleopatra, Marilyn Monroe, Julius Caesar, Shakespeare for God's sake, to a boring, frumpy human who knows as much about sex and romance as she does about fixing Chevrolets?!"

Crowley stared at her in slight fear, overwhelm and shock at her unexpected outburst. After about 32 seconds of her staring in confounded fury at his terrified expression, the only thing he could think to say was "Shakespeare was actually kind of a prick...."

Jenna groaned loudly and leaned back in her chair. "You know what I mean," she said to the ceiling with exhaustion and exasperation. "It just doesn't make any sense. I mean," she continued, glaring at him once more and shaking her head, "ballpark, how many people, Crowley? Hmm? One thousand? Ten thousand? Am I getting remotely close yet?"

Crowley blushed furiously as both his demon and angel screamed at him to not answer, lie, discorporated himself, anything but admit the truth.

Which after a deep breath (and some chloroform for his inner family) was precisely what he did.

"Well," Crowley began, finally breaking the thick silence between them with a nervous cough. "In terms of dating itself, not any, um, anything else," he said, fidgeting with the cloth napkin in his lap and trying to avoid her burning gaze, "and including tonight, the answer would be, um, one."

Jenna froze and waited for the telltale knot to form in the pit of her stomach. When it didn't, she wrinkled her brow in confusion at the demon.

"And in terms of, um, well, that is to say, um--" Crowley stammered, his face now a ripe Gala apple, then sighed and flung the napkin carelessly behind him before leaning forward intently. "Okay, you've gotta promise not to tell anyone I told you, alright?" he said in a hushed voice, his golden eyes dead serious.

Jenna had no idea what he was talking about, but cringed slightly and replied, "Um, okay, but who would I tell?"

"People from Hell," he explained matter-of-factly, glancing around as if they were being watched. "Hastur, Dagon, Beezlebub--we all signed a treaty saying we'd never reveal the truth, in order to maintain our reputations. If they knew I broke it..." he trailed off fearfully, shaking slightly.

Jenna blinked, not having any clue what was going on but deciding to play along since she felt no indication he was being dishonest. "Yeah, sure," she said in a falsely cheery tone. "I promise not to tell Hastur anything we talked about during our date. I mean, I know he's gonna beg me for the details, but--"

"Alright, alright," interrupted the demon, rolling his eyes. "I get it. Just--dont tell anyone, okay?" he repeated anxiously.

Jenna smiled warmly. "I won't, I promise."

Crowley sighed with relief. "Thank you," he said quietly, before continuing in a normal tone. "So, angels and demons are gender neutral, right?"

"Right," replied Jenna, remembering what Aziraphale had taught her this far.

"Well, we're also, erm, asexual by nature," he said awkwardly, looking away shyly, "meaning we feel no sexual desire unless it's given to us in some form, which is quite complicated and not worth explaining."

"Meaning you don't know," clarified Jenna.

"Exactly. Subsequently, since we feel no desire, nor the more primitive biological urge to procreate as humans do, celestial and infernal beings just don't engage in intercourse," he continued, feeling a bit more comfortable after her clever observation of his stupidity. "Angels obviously because they view it as sinful, demons more so because it appears....I guess we'd say boring and tiresome, at least from our perspective.

"Now, as a demon," he continued, gesturing to himself, "I frequently manipulate humans' sexual desire in order to tempt them, but never experienced it myself until--well." Crowley blushed furiously again and looked down, noticing his left foot tapping anxiously on the hardwood floor and making a rather loud and annoying noise. He stopped immediately and wished he were dead.

"Okay," said Jenna, more to herself than him as she reflected on what he revealed. "So, angels and demons don't feel sexual desire unless--well, you don't know," she added dismissively, "meaning they don't engage in intercourse. Hang on," she added, holding up a hand and frowning at him. "How do we get Nephilims then?"

"Well, as I said, we do receive it occasionally," he clarified, looking up and hoping his face wasn't as colorful as it felt. "Nephilims are pretty rare overall, maybe 5,000 or so over six millenia."

Jenna considered this before replying, "Okay, that makes sense. So, angels and demons don't experience sexual desire unless they.....well, unless they just do, for whatever reason, in which case they....do they only sleep with humans, or-- no, wait, that's stupid, my parents were--wait--"

"It's mostly just with humans," he assured her, feeling a bit less mortified now that she got the general idea. "Mostly angels and humans at the beginning there, then a few demons got infected with the desire as well. Sorry, that's just--how we refer to it," he added apologetically, trailing off at the end.

Jenna shook her head, looking a bit dazed with all the startling information but completely unperturbed by his comment. "Don't be, sexual desire certainly seems like an illness, making people feel and do strange things." In spite of herself, she smiled a bit.

"Ain't that the truth," mumbled Crowley under his breath, glowering at the table. When Jenna looked up at him curiously, he coughed and continued loudly, "Um, So! After a bit, demons got it too, but not nearly as bad as the angels for some reason. It's kind of a running joke down Below." He chuckled a bit, but stopped immediately when he saw her frowning at the table in what he thought was disapproval but what was actually confusion.

"Anyway!" he continued a bit too loudly, unintentionally snapping Jenna out of her reverie, "when we started noticing these extremely powerful but volatile beings that exhibited both demonic and angelic traits, the Infernal and Celestial Courts immediately outlawed any procreation between angelic beings, demons and humans, regardless of the combination. They also tried to limit the spread of sexual desire to their respective lots, but as no one knows how the Hell we get it in the first place that had no effect."

"So, that's how we got half-demon, half-angel Nephilims?" she asked.

"Pretty much."

Jenna nodded. "Okay. Well, honestly, it all makes a lot of sense," she admitted. "I mean, why have sex, or do anything really, unless you either biologically have to or have the desire to?" She looked at Crowley, who was blushing and fidgeting too much to respond.

"The only thing I still don't get," she continued, ignoring his embarrassment, "is what you meant earlier when you said you signed a contract--"

"Ah, yes. Well, that one is a bit easier to explain," replied Crowley, relieved for the slight change in topic. "You see, because demonic powers often involve sexual desire--manipulating humans, sensing lust levels--people began to see demons as inherently, er, sexually active." He cleared his throat. "As you now know, the vast majority of us actually view anything involving sex with disgust, confusion and annoyance, thus disproving the stereotype.

"However, once Lucifer--Satan, the Devil, whatever--saw how much more interesting the humans found both us and Hell as a result of the rumors, he made all Hell dwellers sign a treaty stating that we would never reveal our true lack of sexual desire and/or experience to anyone. If we break the treaty," he continued, fear creeping into his golden eyes and voice, "the consequences are especially, um, severe."

"Ah," nodded Jenna. "And I'm guessing by 'consequences' you don't mean a pay decrease..."

Crowley shook his head and gave her a charming half-grin. "Not unless the pay decrease also includes inordinate amounts of blood and screaming."

"To be fair, it usually does," Jenna replied, trying to keep a straight face but failing when Crowley burst out laughing. She joined him, feeling her intense angst, humiliation and confusion melt away rapidly.

The two lovebirds just guffawed at their mutual stress, fear, anxiety and angst until they could barely breath. Once she'd settled down enough to speak, Jenna smile/cringed guiltily at Crowley and said, "I'm sorry I screamed at and forced you to tell me how many people you've had sex with."

Crowley, who had only just stopped laughing, howled once again at her blunt words. "It's okay," he chuckled, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry I started planning Josh Blake's unfortunate death by disembowelment."

Jenna cringed. "Seriously? That's a bit extreme...."

Crowley shrugged. "Not where I come from."

Jenna snorted, rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, how bout this: If you promise to leave Josh alone, I won't tell Hell you broke the treaty. Deal?" She then extending a hand toward him.

"Deal," he agreed, holding out his hand as well and pretending to shake her hand firmly as she did the same. "Anyway, your food must be cold now. Want me to warm it up?"

"Yes please," Jenna smiled. Crowley grinned widely back and snapped, heating her eggplant parmesan instantly.

"Thanks!" said Jenna, happily digging in earnestly as Crowley gazed at her affectionately. "So," she said, swallowing. "We've thoroughly exhausted both our past relationship histories--"

"Or rather, lack thereof," replied the demon, sipping his water.

"Touche. And the mating habits--or again, lack thereof--of celestial and infernal beings." She speared a cherry tomato. "What next, demon? Religion or politics?"

Crowley chuckled warmly. "Well, I'm a Satanist myself," he replied, grinning playfully and placing a hand on his chest, golden eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jenna's lovely face lit up as she placed her elbow on the table, rested her chin on her hand and gazed at him with wide, fascinated eyes. "Really?" she said breathily. "You know, I've always wondered where you get all those sacrificial animals for your rituals!"

"Oh, that'd be Walmart," replied Crowley good naturedly, crossing his arms and smirking at his gorgeous date.

"Walmart! Of course!" Jenna lightly slapped her forehead. "I always knew they worshipped the Dark Lord."

Crowley shrugged. "They worship whoever gives them the most money. Used to be Trump, now it's Satan."

"First of all, there's no difference," she grinned, shaking her head and finger at the demon. "Second of all, politics! Yes! Let's now get into a heated argument regarding our respective views, wherein we viciously insult and physically attack each other in the name of defending said beliefs."

Crowley nodded and rubbed his chin with a serious expression as he pretended to consider her proposal. "I do love arguing endlessly over depressing issues," he admitted, eyes still twinkling, "but might I suggest a less frustrating and potentially deadly alternative?"

Jenna sighed, her face mockingly glum. "If you must."

God, I love you, thought Crowley. "How about, whenever you're done eating, we head on over to that jazz club?"

Jenna gasped in mock delight. "The new one on 5th? Oh, perfect! Let's go now!" Wiping her mouth daintily on the linen napkin, she watched Crowley smoothly rise and glide over to her end of the table, offering a hand to help her up, which she gratefully accepted.

"Alright, seriously though. What's next?" she asked in her normal tone, standing and looking up at Crowley curiously.

He smirked down at her and linked her arm through his again. "5th Avenue's newest and hottest club, of course," he responded matter-of-factly as he led her down the hall toward the guestrooms.

Jenna blinked. "Oh, okay. Alrighty then."

Crowley just chuckled at her confusion as they reached a pitch black door through which she hadn't been yet. Jenna frowned up at him curiously as he stated, "My lady, I give you the stars!" before opening the door with a flourish.

Jenna gasped. The door opened into a mysterious forest at dusk with an anachronistic brown dance floor: paintings of very realistic trees shrouded in mist decorated the walls, as did tiny moving lights that appeared to be fireflies. They wove in between the trees, giving the room depth as well as color and a bit of light to the dark, atmospheric room.

Crowley motioned for her to enter first, which she did in a trance like state, marvelling over the moving forest scenes on each wall, smell of fresh soil after a rainstorm and faint chirping of crickets. Her red heels clacked sharply on the hardwood dance floor until she looked up at the ceiling and stopped dead in her tracks.

Above their heads was the most incomprehensibly beautiful array of twinkling stars; streaking, long-tailed comets; rocky asteroids and other heavenly bodies, swirling in a placid, midnight blue lake with white rivers flowing throughout. It reminded her of the enchanted ceiling at Hogwarts, so realistic and yet infinitely more beautiful than the real night sky outside. In Jenna's case, this was especially true, seeing as gloomy grey clouds had been hiding any possible stars and/or helicopters for days. Not that she could see much, but some of Crowley's windows were so tall and wide, if she tilted her head just right she could just see a smoky cloud pass over a crescent moon on occasion.

But this was so much better.

"Wow," Jenna whispered, spellbound by the mesmerizing galactic beauty glimmering majestically over her.

"What do you think?" asked a low, charming voice near her right ear.

Jenna jumped, forgetting that Crowley was there. She laughed and turned around to face him, clutching her racing heart.

"Oh, I'm sorry I scared you," he said anxiously, taking a step back and looking concerned.

Jenna shook her head, smiling happily. "No, I'm sorry. It's just so...." She gestured wordlessly up at the sky, as well as the peaceful woods surrounding them. "It's just---its perfect, Crowley. I've never seen anything so beautiful."

Crowley hoped that, in the darkness, Jenna couldn't how brightly his face blazed scarlet, nor the depth of his secret smile. Taking her hand so gently in his, he pulled her a bit closer and whispered in her ear, "I have."

His warm, minty breath on her skin sent shivers down her spine. She blushed a very soft pink and turned to the side, smiling to herself as he looked up and waved his hand a bit at the ceiling. A silvery white light slowly illuminated the room, and Crowley tapped her shoulder. Jenna turned around, followed his pointed finger up to the ceiling and gasped at a huge full moon suddenly visible in the magical sky.

"Wow," Jenna repeated softly, her eyes almost as round as the moon as she stared at it, hypnotized by its sacred beauty. Turning to Crowley, she smiled and shook her head in amazement. "This is just.....wow."

Crowley smirked, his eyes glowing a warm yellow in the darkness. "Sounds like the English major's at a loss for words."

Jenna just nodded, biting her full lip as a few tears appeared in her luminous blue/green eyes. Crowley's smirk evolved into a soft smile as he gazed at her flawless face illuminated by the silvery moonlight. With a quick snap, Ray Charles' "La Vie en Rose" filled the room, and he offered a hand to Jenna.

"May I have this dance?" he asked charmingly.

Jenna smiled sweetly back and slipped her velvet soft hand into his. "Of course," she replied gently, but then her face fell.

"What's wrong?" asked Crowley anxiously. "Is it the song? 'Cuz I can--"

"No, it's not. I love this song!" Jenna assured him emphatically. "It's just, well, I'm a pretty terrible dancer," she admitted with a wince. "Plus I've basically never danced with a partner before, so--"

"First of all," interrupted the demon smoothly, holding up a finger and smiling affectionately, "as someone who has seen you dance, both with friends informally and during choir performances, I can attest most adamantly that you are anything but a terrible dancer." His charming grin and smoldering eyes made the Nephilim blush and look at their feet shyly.

"Second," continued Crowley, gently taking her other hand and placing it on his shoulder, "while my 6,000 years were not spent romancing "history's most fascinating people"-- 'fascinating' being a debatable term--they were spent studying--and, if I may say so, perfecting--the ever-evolving art of dance, from ballroom to Zumba."

Jenna laughed. "Oh, really?" she asked playfully as he adjusted their clasped hands so that their elbows bent downward diagonally.

He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head slightly. "You doubt my skills?"

Jenna shook her head. "No, I just can't picture you doing Zumba."

They both laughed. "Well, I admit that style isn't my forte," he said, rubbing his sweaty free hand on his pants. "I'm much more skilled at the waltz, which isn't difficult at all, very simple. May I--?" He trailed off, his face very nervous as he moved his free hand toward her waist without touching it, then stopped, his eyes now asking her for permission as well.

Jenna smiled at his bashfulness, took her hand off his shoulder and confidently placed his slightly shaking hand on her waist. He blushed as his hand made contact with the gentle curves of her waist.

"Hoooooold me close and hold me fast, this magic spell you cast,   
I see la vie en rose,"

As Louis Armstrong's voice warbled through the air, Crowley smiled down at Jenna's radiant, angelic face--so full of life, love, kindness, everything he lacked--and gently guided her around the dance floor, his golden eyes lovingly caressing her slightly nervous ones.

"Wheeeeen you kiss me, Heaven sighs,  
I'm in a world apart,  
I see la vie en rooooose,"

T

he demon and Nephilim danced and twirled around the enchanted forest as "La Vie en Rose," "Dream a Little Dream of Me," "Your Song," "Thinking of You" and other romantic tunes crooned in the background. Jenna felt more comfortable and less terrified of stepping on Crowley's feet with each song, even laughing a bit during the third when he taught her how to spin back into him after extending their arms.

By the time "Endless Love" began, Jenna was so drunk with happiness yet exhausted that she snuggled into his arms without giving it a second thought, closing her eyes and smiling peacefully as she leaned her flushed right cheek on his warm chest. Crowley was a bit surprised by her sudden affection, but didn't question it, just wrapped her in his long arms as they slowly rotated under the full moon.

"Mmmm, this is so nice," Jenna murmured against his chest, inhaling his distinct bonfire scent mingled with musky cologne.

Crowley smiled down at his resplendent date, lightly kissing her soft hair and whispering, "You're so beautiful."

Jenna just nuzzled closer and mumbled drowsily, "No, you're so beautiful."

Crowley chuckled. "Okay, I think it's time for bed," he teased, rubbing her upper back slightly. "You're obviously delirious from lack of sleep."

Jenna frowned. "I'm not sleepy," she yawned, eyes still closed. "I'm just resting my eyes."

"Mm-hm. Oh yeah. Sure." As Lionel Richie and Diana Ross finished their duet, the demon reluctantly released her statuesque body and guided her out of the enchanted forest and down the hall to her room.

At the door to her room, they stood awkwardly for a moment before Jenna said, feeling a bit more awake, "Thanks for such a perfect date, Crowley. Sorry for having a mental breakdown during dinner."

Crowley chuckled and cupped her cheek with his hand. "You most certainly did not, but even if you had, it still would have been the best night of my life." His golden irises gazed into her oceanic ones lovingly. "Thank you for letting me take you out."

Jenna willingly lost herself in his mesmerizing pools of liquid topaz until their lips met in a very sweet, gentle kiss. It wasn't as passionate or adventurous as their first, but it was the perfect end to a very nice first date.

Jenna also felt no aggression, pressure or tension from his warm body or lips, only kindness, care and appreciation. She had always expected dates to end with the guy sloppily kissing and groping the girl, trying to coerce her into sex, and was both relieved and strangely aroused when Crowley shattered this fear with such a chaste yet heartfelt kiss.

"Goodnight, love," Crowley whispered when they separated.

"Goodnight, Crowley," she replied, smiling sweetly again before disappearing into her room.

Both lovebirds leaned against opposite sides of the door, smiling blissfully as they slowly slid down to the floor, where they sat for at least 2 minutes reflecting on their interesting first date.

Crowley then sauntered to his room, where he collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what he did right to get so lucky.

Jenna got up gingerly, changed into comfortable pajamas and instantly fell into a deep, restful sleep, during which she dreamed of bright full moons, lakes of molten fire and luscious red apples.


	20. In which everything is fluffy and cute

"Crow! Get in here, it's starting!" Jenna yelled from the couch.

"What do you mean, 'it's starting?!" cried the demon from the kitchen. "Just keep it paused!"

"I can't! I-It's my powers, they-they're forcing me to press play!" Jenna groaned as she clutched the remote dramatically in front of her, "straining" to keep her thumb (which was indeed hovering shakily over the play button) from pressing down. "Its too strong! I can't stop myself! Ahhhhh!!!"

"Give me that, you little faker," laughed Crowley, yanking the remote out of her hands playfully before setting down their homemade, not miracled, brownie sundaes on the coffee table and settling into the couch.

"Oh, you saved me!" sighed Jenna dramatically, pretending to swoon. "Thank you, my hero!"

Crowley rolled his eyes toward her, a gesture which only enhanced the glowing happiness radiating from his handsome face. "You are the most impatient person I've ever met," he teased, reaching a hand out to play with her hair.

Jenna snuggled into his arms and pulled a soft blanket around her legs. "Liar," she replied, eliciting another snicker from her boyfriend. "Besides, you rush me way more when it's my turn to get the snacks!"

"That's only because you're so slow!" smirked Crowley, lightly tapping her nose.

"You know what?" said Jenna with a wicked grin and narrowed eyes, stealing the remote and turning off the TV. "I don't think you deserve to watch "Stress Relief!"

"Give me that, you little--!" Jenna erupted into giggles as the demon tried to grab the remote back playfully.

"Ah-ha!" Crowley announced triumphantly as he snatched it back smoothly. "Victory is mine!"

"Stupid long demon arms," Jenna muttered, rolling her eyes and crossing her own comparatively shorter appendages.

"All the better to hold you with, my dear," replied Crowley smoothly as his lanky limbs slithered around her shoulders and hugged her tight to his chest, kissing her head.

Jenna giggled and twisted back to look at him, since they were both facing the large flat screen. "Fine. Just start the show, Slenderman."

Crowley chuckled and gazed lovingly at her glowing face. "As you wish, love," he whispered, gently brushing her long brunette hair out of her face before kissing her full lips softly.

"Alright, enough distracting," she scolded after a few steamy seconds, grabbing the remote and turning back to the TV. "It's time for the best cold open you've ever seen. Ready?"

"Ready," replied the demon, focusing on the screen as Jenna pressed play.

"Last week I gave a fire safety talk," said Dwight Schrute in a voiceover as the screen showed him hammering a metal key into a door, "and nobody listened. It's my own fault for using PowerPoint," he continued, now nonchalantly heating the door handle with a blowtorch.

"'PowerPoint is boring,'" stage whispered Jenna and Dwight simultaneously. Crowley snickered and kissed her head again as Dwight threw a lit cigarette into a trashcan full of paper, remarking sinisterly, "Today, smoking is gonna save lives."

"Oh, he is so Hastur," said the demon, shaking his head at the overzealous salesman. "The smoking, starting fires, everyone hating him--it's uncanny, really."

"No, Hastur is Creed," argued Jenna as Michael yelled at everyone to 'stay fucking calm!' "They're both very white, insane creeps with no social skills. Dwight is Dagon, based on what you've told me: major kiss-ass, nerd and naively trusting Teacher's Pet."

Crowley chuckled. "Yeah, that is pretty accurate," he admitted, watching smoke slowly fill the office and everyone run around like chickens with their heads cut off.

"Plus, 'Lord of the Files?' Seriously? Not only is that THE lamest pun ever, but also a total "Assistant to the Regional Manager" position." 

Crowley roared with laughter, not only at her comment but at Angela throwing Bandit into the ceiling. "That's hilarious!" he exclaimed. "And you know, they don't even know about the book? Corporate just gave Dagon that position cuz they didn't want to promote her to Duchess!"

"Are you telling me," began Jenna, pausing the show and twisting around to face her boyfriend, "that no one in Hell has heard of Lord of the Flies?!"

"Not the novel, no," admitted the demon, grinning down at her consternated expression, "but we know about the concept, as in, we know that Beezlebub is Lord of the Flies."

"Ah," nodded Jenna. "So Hell isn't entirely composed of morons."

"I didn't say that," smirked Crowley. Jenna laughed and unpaused the show just as Andy screamed, "The fire is shooting at us!"

"Who am I again?" he asked after a moment, cocking his head and looking down at her with an amused expression.

"You already know," replied Jenna curtly, her eyes glued to the screen.

"Tell me anyway," he said, stroking her hair lightly. "I like when you say it."

Jenna rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine. You're Jim, I'm Pam and Zira is Andy post-anger management," she recited monotonously.

"Ah yes. And why am I Jim again?" he asked in a very fake innocent voice, now stroking her right cheek seductively with his finger. 

Jenna groaned, paused the show and twisted around before grabbing his face and kissing him full on the mouth. After about four seconds, she released him and returned to watching the episode as if nothing happened.

Crowley blinked hazily. "What was that for?" he asked, dumbfounded yet extremely pleased.

"To shut you up," replied the Celestern matter-of-factly as Stanley collapsed from his heart attack on the flat screen.

Crowley chuckled and hugged her tightly to him, kissing her head again. "You're wonderful," he said softly.

"I know," sang Jenna, glancing up at him with a cheeky smile. "Now shush. You're missing the best part! This is where Michael reminds Stanley he's black before attempting to shove his wallet down the poor man's throat."

~

It was not a dark and stormy night. It was a very sunny, remarkably dry September afternoon outside Crowley's flat as he napped peacefully on his long leather couch.

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came....."

Crowley stirred, yawned and opened his bleary eyes. What was that sound?

"That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name...."

The demon grinned and slowly crept off the couch, following the clear, beautiful soprano voice as it continued to sing.

"And do I dream again? For now I find....."

He stopped outside the music room, so named because it contained an elegant grand piano, several electric and acoustic guitars, a rather impressive drum set and probably the best sound system in the known universe. The door was cracked open slightly; Crowley slowly opened it further as the singing continued.

"The Phaaaaaaaaaaaaa-ntom of the o-per-a is there, inside my mind."

Jenna stood at the window overlooking St. James' park, playing absent-mindedly with the white satin curtains as she hummed the instrumental interlude following the verse she just finished.

"Sing once again with me, our strange duet," sang Crowley in a low voice, grinning affectionately as he stepped into the room. She whipped around, gasped lightly and blushed furiously upon seeing Crowley. Looking away in mortification, she didn't notice him sit at the piano and wiggle his fingers over the keys in preparation to play the accompanying music to her song.

She did notice the smooth, melodious notes he played and his surprisingly pleasant baritone as he continued, "My power over you grows stronger yet."

Jenna looked up and smiled at the demon as he effortlessly created gorgeous music with his limber fingers and low, seductive voice. As he added, "And though you turn from me, to glance behind," the young Celestern slowly walked over to the piano and leaned against the back, gazing in admiration at him.

"The Phaaaaaaaaaaaaa-ntom of the o-per-a is there, inside your mind," he sang to her, his mesmerizing golden eyes smoldering and playful. Jenna continued to watch him as he played the haunting interlude.

"Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear," Jenna continued in dulcet tones as Crowley accompanied her. "I am the mask you wear..."

"It's me they hear," interjected Crowley, eyes only glancing occasionally at the keys.

"Your/my spirit and my/your voice, in one combined," the young Celestern and millennia old demon sang together, her song, crystal clear soprano harmonizing creatively with his seductive, melodic baritone. "The Phaaaaaaaaaaaaa-ntom of the o-per-a is there, inside my/your mind."

"Just FYI, I can't do the super high notes," Jenna admitted as Crowley continued to play the last part of the song.

"I dunno," replied the demon, grinning at her mischievously. "Let's give it a try, love."

Jenna rolled her eyes, waited for her cue and then vocalized the first, easiest and lowest part.

"Sing, my angel of music!" cried the demon melodramatically, now playing with great flourish and pomp.

Jenna laughed at him, then repeated the easy vocalization. Now came the hard part: the key change. Anxiety shot through her veins like poison as she quickly took a deep breath for the next slightly higher vocalization. Jenna frowned at how effortlessly she hit each note perfectly. He watched her eagerly, fingers nimbly dancing over the keys.

Jenna continued to sing higher and higher, marveling at her perfect pitch and operatic vibrato even on the highest notes. When she finally reached and strongly maintained the final, highest note, it was effortlessly clear, powerful, vibrating and haunting, like she was comfortably sitting in the center of the note instead of grasping desperately for it from fathoms below.

Crowley had stopped playing a bit early so she could hear her rapturous voice alone. The two stood like statues as the last vestiges of the piercing note vanished from the air, Jenna in catatonic shock and Crowley in anticipation and curiosity.

"I've never been able to do that before," Jenna confessed softly. "But that felt so easy, like I could have gone even higher!"

"It's another angelic power, love," Crowley replied softly, getting up and gently taking her soft, cold hand. "I knew you'd get Vocal. Ever since you were a child, you've sung so beautifully, just like an angel." He rubbed her hand with his thumb and gazed down at her intimately, "and your incomparable singing has only strengthened over the years. Plus," he added, "your voice, even when not singing, has always been melodious and enchanting, like a storyteller. From the moment we found out you were part angel, I knew you'd get that power for sure."

Jenna blushed and smiled at the compliments, but still felt confused. "Wait, how is that a power though?"

Crowley smiled affectionately and tucked a loose strand of wavy light brown hair behind her left ear. "You'll have to ask Zira for the specifics, but I know it's one of the most powerful celestial powers one can possess. See, angels don't just sing to celebrate Jesus being born. Something about their clear pitches and harmonies change the Source energetic frequencies on Earth, which I know doesn't sound like much, until you consider Source influences everything, from which morning dew drops appear on which blades of grass to whether an asteroid crashes into Earth."

Jenna blinked. "Oh," she said meekly. "Did--well, d'you think anything happened just now, while I was--"

Crowley shook his head, cupping her anxious face in his perpetually warm hands lovingly. "No, don't worry love. You'd need a whole Heavenly Host (at least 50 angels) to do anything like that, plus security clearance. Basically, unless you join a vigilante angelic choir that grants you access to Catastrophy or Major Change (those aren't the official names, you'd have to ask Angel), your voice alone, as gorgeous as it is, probably won't do much more than make living things nearby feel better."

Jenna exhaled in relief. "Thank God," she sighed. "I was scared I caused an avalanche or something."

Crowley nodded sympathetically and embraced her with his strong, comforting arms. Hugging him back tightly, Jenna buried her face in his chest and breathed in his familiar scent: bonfire, the forest after a rainstorm and tart apples.

"Don't worry, love," whispered the demon, gently stroking her long wavy hair. "The most you did was help me cross off two more things on my bucket list."

Jenna looked up at him, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "I'm sorry, you have a WHAT list?" she asked, smirking.

The demon scoffed. "Figure of speech," he clarified. "What, you have to be mortal now to have a bucket list?"

"Yes, actually," she replied, grinning playfully. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that's the only criterium."

He rolled his golden eyes. "Well, that's stupid and I'm keeping it either which way. You know, that's a very discriminatory rule," he added, trying not to smile.

"Well, we are a very discriminatory species," she pointed out, trying to be serious as well but failing when he started laughing and hugged her again.

"Anyway, what items can you now cross off on your so-called "bucket list?" Jenna asked, pulling away to look up into his amazing eyes again.

Crowley smiled. "Playing the piano for and singing a duet with you," he replied simply, golden pools twinkling brightly.

Jenna blushed dark magenta and hid her face in his shirt again, heart racing. Her stomach, rather than twisting in an unpleasant knot, did a few somersaults as she reflected on his words.

"Hey," he said softly. She looked up and saw he looked worried. "I'm sorry if I--well, I mean, I don't want to make you uncomforta--"

Before the demon could finish, Jenna wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately with full, sweet lips. Crowley needed no convincing to embrace her snuggly and move his mouth sensuously with hers, eyes closed as he exhaled heavily and slowly.

They kissed and held each other for a few minutes, then he stopped when he noticed the wet tears on her face.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, peering anxiously into her glistening eyes.

Jenna shook her head and smiled, oceanic orbs indeed leaking tears but also lit up with happiness. She pressed her face into his chest and softly sobbed, "Thank you for loving me."

Crowley froze, then hugged her tighter, stroking her hair as tears appeared in his own intense golden eyes. "Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, rubbing her upper back as she cried harder. "It's the easiest and most selfish thing I've ever done."

The two immortal beings, one sobbing in joyful bewilderment and the other crying silently, eyes screwed shut and head shaking in hazy disbelief, wondering why she'd thanked him for doing something as effortless as existing. When he'd analyzed the subject to death and come up with no reasonable conclusions, and she'd cried all her self-deprecating tears, they released and looked at each other.

"Thanks for singing with me," he said in a low voice, shuffling his feet a bit.

Jenna smiled. "You have a beautiful voice," she replied. Crowley blushed cherry red and began examining his shoes carefully. "And I didn't know you could play piano AND guitar!"

Crowley shrugged and tried to appear cool and nonchalant. "Just picked it up over the years," he mumbled. Why was the room so damn hot all of a sudden?

Jenna giggled. "Yeah, I can imagine."

Crowley glanced up at her and scratched the back of his head. "Um, d'you want to see the new orchid I got today?" he asked shyly. "Its not as pretty as the flowers you're growing, but it's still a--"

"Sure!" chirped Jenna. She loved discussing and tending to his plants together. The demon had behaved very awkwardly when first showing her the greenhouse (as she called it), stern and agitated like a parent who's unruly children are about to meet a celebrity or monarch, but since then had mellowed quite a bit. Now when he invited her to see their progress or ask her opinion on a new genus he purchased, Crowley appeared fairly relaxed, if a bit on edge, while she fawned shamelessly over the viridian beauties. 

Crowley beamed. Secretly, he loved watching her coo over his many ferns and fronds, even though they didn't deserve such precious attention. She was such a nurturing person, talking to the plants brightly as she watered their roots and praised their growth and development (or rather lack thereof, in his opinion). Normally he'd never let someone spoil the bastards so, but as it was Jenna.....plus, after a week of her pampering he noticed with supreme shock how much brighter, healthier and stronger they had grown. Maybe he'd ease up on the death threats, just a bit.

"Great. I really think you'll like it," he said, placing a long arm over her shoulders as they exited the music room. "You'll have to pick a spot for it, though--you're good at that feng shui stuff."

Jenna rolled her eyes and grin ned broadly. "'K, there's a difference between actual feng shui and moving a potted cactus an inch to the right."

He shrugged. "Well, I for one felt a big energetic shift."

"Ooooh, you mean the icy fear that surged through each leaf and tendril when you reentered the room," she teased, nudging him with her right side.

Crowley laughed. "Oh yeah, that explains it. Speaking of which, I'm gonna pulverize that jade if--"

"You lay one finger on the jade and I'll dowse you in holy water, demon," Jenna warned, pointing at him sternly.

He almost scoffed, but memories of Ligur melting in his foyer sobered him up. "Wait, can you do that yet?" he asked tentatively, cringing.

Jenna burst out laughing at his terrified expression. "Oh my God, you should see your face! Of course not, you idiot--you think I'd keep that to myself and spring it on you as a death threat?"

Crowley frowned. "Well I would!" he cried defensively.

Jenna chuckled, kissed his cheek and flounced into the greenhouse. "Well good thing I'm not you then. Now where's the orchid?"

Crowley exhaled in relief that his girlfriend wasn't capable of destroying him (yet), straightened his jacket and replied as he sauntered into the room, "If that jealous ivy hasn't knocked it over yet, the orchid's next to the pathetic rhododendron. Come on, I'll show you how to scare it into changing color."

~

"What?.....No, he didn't.........No he didn't!........You are such a liar, Mel!.......Ok," said Jenna, sitting down on the couch and crossing her legs, "there is no way in Heaven or Hell that a five-year-old child stuffed an entire Hot Wheels Ferrari up his nose. It's biologically impossible!"

Crowley, who had been scrolling through his social media on the nearby armchair, laughed uproariously.

"See? Even Crowley knows you're full of it," Jenna teased her best friend, rolling her eyes and chuckling. "Sorry, what? Yeah, he's here........'K, just a sec." Jenna moved her phone from her right ear to her chest and said to the demon, "Mel says "Hi," and thanks for helping her with that parking ticket."

"Hi, Mel!" called Crowley, looking at the phone. "Tell her speeding is dangerous and she could have killed someone."

"Okay," replied Jenna with a straight face. "Crow says "Hi," and then something hypocritical about not speeding, even though he frequently does 90 in residential zones."

Crowley scoffed and looked affronted. "I have NEVER done 90 in a residential zone," he replied loftily. "Anything less than 95 is criminally slow, particularly when there's those irritating green men hanging about on the streets."

"Oh, you mean those signs indicating there are children present and you need to drive carefully?" teased Jenna.

Crowley shrugged, trying not to smile as he crossed his arms and legs. "All I know is they're annoying and a lot of fun to run over."

The Celestern blinked. "I'm gonna assume you're referring to the signs and ignore you now," she replied coolly. "You get all that, Melly? I'm dating a reckless driver with a penchant for murdering innocent neon plastic figures......"

Crowley chuckled and returned to his phone, half-listening to Jenna's phone call until his name popped up again.

"No, Crowley wouldn't be into them; he's a major Queen fan," she said, flipping through the magazine lazily.

"Wouldn't be into what?" he asked curiously, setting his phone aside and looking at his girlfriend.

"Nothing," Jenna said dismissively. She paused as Melissa talked for a bit. "Hmm, that's a good question," she said, eyes narrowing as she looked at the demon in deep thought. "Hmmm, I really don't--oh! Oh! 'Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time!'" Jenna exclaimed excitedly. "Yeah, that's TOTALLY him."

Crowley frowned, nonplussed.

"Well, like, a really mellow version of that right now," she admitted, "since we're, you know, not, um, out in the world really." Jenna glanced guiltily at Crowley. She didn't want to keep lying to her friend by saying she was in the hospital, so she settled for half-truths that only made her feel half as disgusting.

"What is Somebody's name are you two talking about?" cried the demon.

Jenna grinned at him. "Ok, I'll do it. I'll call you back after, bye!" Jenna hung up, then fixed Crowley with a very serious look. "Ok, you know Panic! At The Disco, right?"

"The band?" he asked, still confused. "Yeah, I know of them. Why?"

"Well," continued Jenna, "they've recently become one of my favorites, PARTICULARLY one song that reminds me of you."

Crowley blinked in shock. "One of them....reminds you of me?" he repeated skeptically, pointing from Jenna to himself.

Jenna rolled her eyes and returned to her phone. "You don't have a monopoly on romance, you know--I can think about and play songs for and sweep you off your feet too! Well, metaphorically speaking," she added, glancing up and wrinkling her nose at his tall frame. "I can't lift worth a damn. Ah, here it is! Okay," she said, patting the seat next to her. "Come here. This song is, in my humble opinion, the epitome of your long life and personality."

"Don't Threaten....something?" he asked, sitting next to and wrapping his arms around her.

"Yes, 'Don't Threaten something.' Alright, here we go."

Jenna pressed play on her phone. They listened. By the final chorus, Crowley was laughing and singing along, Jenna grinning brightly and watching him happily.

"That was surprisingly accurate," he admitted when it ended. "Not only have I rode through countless cities in shopping carts, really rocked the whole Victorian cane-and-hat look AND 'lost my mind in a wedding'--well, they SAID it was a wedding gown, but it WAS red, so--anyway," he continued as Jenna cackled gleefully, "I've ALSO 'lost a bet to a guy in a chiffon skirt'--real prick, stole my wallet--and tempted an entire class of medical students to drink 23 bottles of rum instead of study for finals." He smirked proudly and crossed his arms.

Jenna chuckled and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I knew it. I'm great at finding songs that represent people."

Crowley nodded, then paused before adding, "I do like them, by the way--the band. Never listened much, but they're good."

Jenna stared at him in disbelief. "Really? I thought you'd hate them, they're just so different from your usual style--more punk, less--Mercury." Crowley laughed. "I guess I was wrong," she admitted.

"I guess you were," the demon replied cheekily. They kissed softly until Jenna, all too soon in Crowley's opinion, broke away and said, "Alright, now that I've got you interested.....let's try some Set it Off."


	21. In which Jenna has a weird day

Jenna sighed contentedly as she eased herself into a steaming bubble bath. Lavender and eucalyptus steam, which she deeply and gratefully inhaled, filled her en suite bathroom, which included the magnificent jacuzzi tub in which she was currently soaking.

Jenna could have sworn it wasn't here when she first moved in, just an average shower and tub combo, but after mentioning in passing to Crowley two months ago how she would spend hours as a teen relaxing in her aunt's huge bathtub, the combo overnight transformed into a state-of-the-art jacuzzi bath with numerous jets large enough to fit a pregnant manatee, over which an overhead rain shower waited in case she just wanted to rinse off.

Obviously Crowley played dumb when she tried to thank him, but he did blush rather spectacularly when she gave up arguing and just kissed him on the cheek.

Unlike other gifts Crowley and Aziraphale had given her (namely the new phone and trunks of clothes and first editions), Jenna didn't hesitate to use the tub every night before going to bed. The soothing lavender essential oils, lotions and bubble bath Aziraphale had purchased for her eased her anxious mind, which was compulsively counting the remaining days until her birthday.

40 days left, the young Celestern mused, fidgeting with the white bubbles a bit. And I still only have one demonic power. What good will my amateur Persuasion do when Heaven and Hell come to destroy me? Jenna's heart pounded in her chest as she imagined battling flaming sword-wielding Archangels and vicious demons in 1.5 months with nothing but a few unhelpful angelic powers and the potential to negotiate a few more seconds of life, if that. Even with Aziraphale and Crowley by her side, her chances of making it past 25 were slim.....and frankly, the thought of one of them getting injured or worse made her so nauseous that she would prefer to face the forces of Heaven and Hell alone, as much as that thought chilled her bones.

As she pondered these distressing topics, Jenna noticed the still water around her start to get a bit choppy; it swayed back and forth, as if she was moving in the tub instead of laying perfectly still. She frowned, and her heartrate increased, which only made the water more volatile; it even began sloshing over the sides a bit. 

"What the hell?" she whispered, sitting up and pulling out the drain so as not to flood the bathroom. As she did so, she caught a whiff of eucalyptus and lavender, both of which relaxed her a bit. She closed her eyes, took another deep breath and felt her heartrate slow. As it did, so did the bathwater, until it was as still as a morning pond. She opened her eyes, and upon seeing the placid bath water felt a bit anxious and curious; in response, the water rippled a bit until it was splashing against her legs as she hyperventilated.

Shaking her head, Jenna quickly got out of the tub, dried herself off, slipped on a very fluffy white robe and stared at the water so that she could feel as freaked out as she wanted without her heartrate potentially influencing the water. As the water was left alone, it started to follow the laws of physics rather than Jenna's emotional states, naturally slowing down when there was no continued outside force acting upon it. 

Tentatively, the young Celestern reached a pale hand into the water. Her heartrate was sky-high, and would most certainly change the serene surface of the water if her theory was correct. As her pruny fingers touched the tepid liquid, it immediately rippled and undulated as if she'd splashed around or kicked the tub. Jenna quickly withdrew her hand, dried it off and hurried out of her room. 

"Crowley!" she said rather loudly, her not knowing where exactly her boyfriend was at the moment. "Can you help me with something?" 

"Sure, love! Just a sec!" cried the distant voice of the demon. He was probably in his room, the farthest corner of the house from hers. "Is something wrong?"

"No no, everything's cool!" she cried nonchalantly, although her nervous expression and the vice-like grip with which she held her robe belt said otherwise. "Just--need some advice, that's all." 

"Okay," he replied doubtfully. "Well, just let me put this--ah you sonofabitch, stay up there!--ugh, sorry! Reorganizing!" he cried, sounding a bit inauthentic and guilty himself now. "Be right there, sweetheart!"

Jenna frowned, but just shook her head. Since October 5, Crowley had taken to ordering lots of packages from Amazon, miracling them directly into his room and fiddling with them when he thought she wouldn't notice. His plan may have worked if something sharp or heavy didn't inevitably betray him in some way and cause him to swear profusely at and insult it. He tried to do so quietly but Jenna's hearing, as well as her other five senses, had become supernaturally attuned to hear even the slightest pin drop since September ended. Lucky for him she found his tirades freaking hilarious, but Crowley was still mortified and oddly very secretive. He kept telling her he was just "reorganizing," but the slight knot in Jenna's stomach betrayed his half-lie and she was normally desperate to discover what he was hiding from her. 

Today, however, Jenna was too freaked out with her own weirdness to delve into Crowley's latest lovable idiosyncrasy. If he was building the Batmobile in his room, that would have to wait until she had shown him what she was able to do with water now. 

After what felt like an eon but was really only one minute, Jenna heard Crowley's door close and his snakeskin boots (yes, they were boots, he removed them sometimes and wore socks underneath) clacking against the hardwood floor. 

"Sorry bout that love," he said, almost around the corner. "I just--"

Crowley had been smiling expectantly at his beautiful girlfriend, the love of his life, but his face froze in shock as though he'd been hit by a semi when he got within five feet of her. He breathed in and out through his mouth heavily and stared at her with wide, somewhat unfocused eyes, before collapsing backward on the floor. 

"Crowley!" cried Jenna, running towards his form and bending down. "What's going on?!" 

Crowley just groaned and rolled over onto his back. His eyes were closed, but his face looked extremely relaxed, like he was laying on soft grass instead of a dead tree. He was also still breathing, but inhaling so deeply Jenna was worried he'd pass out. 

"C-can you hear me?" she asked, touching his cheek tentatively. 

He nodded. "Yeah," he gasped, eyes still closed. "Sorry, you just--your scent," he exhaled forcefully, turning away from her a bit and cringing. 

"My scent?" Jenna repeated, cheeks reddening. "You mean, I-I really smell that bad--"

"No!" cried Crowley, eyes flying open as he turned back towards her and gripped her right hand tightly. "No, not bad. It's--it's nice," he finished lamely, although "good" didn't seem to be at all the word he was thinking or wanted to use. 

Jenna blushed deeper and cringed herself. "Oh. So, 'nice' as in 'the perfect blend of sensual desire and--'"

"No, that's your supernatural scent," corrected Crowley, his voice still somewhat constricted and gasping for breath, as though his lungs were being squeezed, "which won't show up until you turn 25. This is--oh God, you smell so good--this has got to be Seduction, no contest."

"Seduction?!" exclaimed the Celestern, wrenching away her hand and folding her arms across her chest as she stood up and moved away from him a few feet. "What the hell does that mean? I'm not trying to-"

"Demonic power," explained Crowley weakly, his breath normalizing a bit. He was staring at his left hand which had flopped rather pathetically on the ground when she released it. "Demons use appearance and scent to Seduce. Probably another power," he groaned, rolling over again. "I'm sorry love, I don't think I can stay awake. Can you call Angel and have him explain? I just feel so sleepy."

Jenna sighed, bent down and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry I got angry, honey," she whispered, stroking his hair. "You just rest, I'll call Zira. Do you need anything?"

Crowley sighed and smiled contentedly as she stroked his hair, then gently took her hand and pressed it to his nose, inhaling her aroma deeply before passing out. 

Once Jenna made sure he was still breathing and fairly comfortable, Jenna retrieved her phone from her room, placed a pillow under Crowley's head and called Aziraphale. 

"I'm sorry, but we are quite definitely closed." 

"Oh shoot, it's after 8. Sorry Zira, it's Jenna."

"Oh, Miss Kingsley! I was just about to call you, I came across a rare first edition of Persuasion that I'm almost certain contains real annotations by Miss Austen herself!"

"That's great, but--wait really? that's amazing! How do you--no, hang on," she stopped herself. "I would love to see it Zira, but I actually have a bit of a problem right now."

"Oh," said the angel, suddenly quite concerned. "Whatever is the matter, dear? Is it Crowley? Is he acting up? Here, I'll call him on my other line--"

"No, he's fine. Well, not fine exactly but--as far as his behavior goes, he is perfect," she explained firmly. "He and I are perfect. The problem is that I am apparently emitting a very powerful....scent, which I for the life of me can't smell but Crowley seems to be particularly.....sensitive to," she explained delicately. "So much so that he's passed out, actually."

"Ah. I see," said Aziraphale somewhat uncomfortably. "Um, will you excuse me while I get A Valde Penitus et Accurate Duce ad Nephilim?"

"Of course," replied Jenna, blushing furiously. While the angel retrieved the ancient text on Celesterns and other Nephilims he discovered in Switzerland, she watched Crowley roll over onto his back and continue to sleep peacefully. At least one of them was relaxed. 

"Here we are, my dear," said Aziraphale after a few minutes, unsuccessfully concealing his stress and awkwardness with an air of jolliness. "Let's see what the text has to say about this..."

"Crowley thinks it's a demonic power," offered Jenna. "He said it may--well, alright, he said it was definitely Seduction, whatever that means." 

"Oh!" cried Aziraphale. Jenna heard what sounded like him closing the book and sighing in relief. "That makes more sense, I was worried your Celesternal Aura had Evolved early!"

"Me too," admitted the young woman, "but Crowley seemed very certain it was Seduction. Of course, I'm pretty sure he's also high as a kite on whatever scent I'm emitting, so he's probably not the most reliable resource at the moment--"

Aziraphale chuckled. "Yes, he would be. From what I know about Seduction--and it isn't much, considering I'm an angel and Crowley doesn't have it--demons with this skill use their scent and/or physical appearance to Seduce humans into committing some type of sin. It is like Persuasion in that it entices humans to make a particular choice, but the demon in question uses a pleasing scent and attractive visage to appear unthreatening, charming and even desirable to humans, which according to Crowley makes it infinitely simpler to manipulate their behavior."

"Ah," replied Jenna, very awkwardly. "Right. Well, that's just......spectacular."

Aziraphale clucked his tongue sympathetically. "I'm sorry, my dear. I know it sounds--well, Crowley can reassure you that there's a upside to each demonic power, just as there is certainly a downside to each angelic." 

"Well, if there is I've yet to find it," she smiled. "I love my angelic powers, they fill me with such peace and love. This is only the second demonic power that I've received, and it makes me feel like a predator."

"Oh, Jenna," sighed the angel. "You are and never will be anything of the kind. Crowley and I will help you to appropriately manage and utilize each power you exhibit, and I expect you won't need much help considering your strong moral center and kind heart." 

Jenna blushed and smiled softly in spite of herself. "Thanks, Zira. Speaking of which, how in the world do I turn this particular one off?"

"Ah," said the angel awkwardly. "Well, you see, I actually don't know how any of the demonic powers work in a practical sense, only in a more abstract, general way. Crowley would be the one to--"

"--ask about that," finished Jenna, shaking her head and grinning wider. "I understand. Thanks anyway, Zira."

"Perhaps I have a book about it here!" exclaimed the angel hopefully. 

"No, it's fine, Zira," said Jenna quickly. "It's 8:20pm on a Saturday night, I don't want you running around looking for a book for me when this will probably wear off in a bit. I'll just...maybe take a shower and wait for Crowley to wake up. Oh!" she cried, suddenly remembering. "There is something you can help me with, however!"

"Of course my dear! Name it!"

Jenna proceeded to tell Aziraphale about the bathtub water. When she finished, Aziraphale was silent for a few seconds, then replied, "Very interesting..."

"What? What is?" she asked anxiously. Crowley stirred on the floor. She brushed some hair out of his eyes and he smiled in his sleep. 

"Well," began Aziraphale carefully, "unless I'm wrong, which I certainly could be, it appears that you have demonstrated not one, but two demonic powers in one day, Miss Kingsley!"

Jenna blinked. "Come again?" she asked doubtfully. "The ability to influence water is a demonic power? What's so evil about--oh, tsunamis," she interrupted herself. "And floods. Yeah, water can definitely be used for bad." 

Aziraphale chuckled. "I used to think the same way. That demonic powers were inherently evil, while angelic were inherently good. In truth, both are arbitrary and could be used by either side to promote a "positive" or "negative," if you can even use labels such as those, agenda. Yes, water can be destructive, but it is also healing, refreshing, a symbol of rebirth. Based on what you've told me about your love of the ocean and swimming, I'm not at all surprised that you can now interact with it in a supernatural sense."

Jenna smiled. "That's very wise. I mean, you're always wise, you're an angel--" (at this Aziraphale laughed heartily) "--but that's definitely something I need to work on. Living in the gray, instead of giving in to black-and-white thinking constantly."

"We all need practice at this, my dear," replied the angel compassionately. "And, take it from someone who knows, you are far more flexible with your thinking than most. I mean," he continued, laughing slightly, "you are friends with both a demon and an angel, for Heaven's sake!"

Jenna laughed. "That's true. Not many people can say that." 

"Almost no one can say that but you," corrected Aziraphale seriously. "I know you have OCD and other mental health concerns that make life quite difficult, sometimes nearly impossible for you." 

Tears welled in Jenna's blue-green eyes. "And I know these conditions try to force you to exist only in the extremes. But I want you to know, my dear Jenna Kingsley," he continued very earnestly, "that you have handled these challenges with more grace and courage than any angel or demon ever could. I know you often feel that you are evil-incarnate, and honestly we all see you as Heaven-incarnate, but at heart, you are the perfect balance: human-incarnate, which is better than any extreme." 

Jenna was sobbing quietly. "Thank you," she whispered through her tears. "I can't--I can't even tell you how much that means to me. Oh Zira, I just--I-I just"

"You go rest now, my dear," interrupted Aziraphale gently. "You've had a long day. Have Crowley call me when he awakens, and please let me know later how you are doing." 

Jenna gave a watery smile. "Thank you," she whispered. 

"Thank you," he replied emphatically. "Goodbye, my heroic friend."

Jenna sobbed so hard at his last words that she couldn't say goodbye. She just set the phone down, curled up next to Crowley and held him tight as she cried into his back. 

He stirred. "Jenna?" he moaned groggily, his eyes opening blearily. "What happened--hey hey hey!" When he turned around and noticed she was crying, he sat up and tried to look at her face. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Can you talk to me? What happened?"

Jenna stopped crying long enough to look into his golden serpentine eyes wide with fear and concern, then curled up in his lap with her head nestled against his chest. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "Please just hold me." 

Crowley was confused, but felt that Jenna was at least physically unharmed so he didn't ask any more questions, simply complied with her request. While she cried into her hands, he rocked her back and forth, rubbed her back gently and murmured soothing things into her hair. After a few minutes, the last hour flooded back to him: seeing Jenna looking like an angel in a long white robe, her long hair heavy and darker from the water and her eyes shining brilliantly; then the most intoxicating scent he'd ever experienced, like heady roses mixed with bourbon and peyote; him trying to explain to her what was going on, all the while fighting a loosing battle to stay awake; finally, being unable to resist the smell any longer and bringing her hand right to his nose, inhaling the lusciously sweet smell until everything went black. 

I must have passed out, he reasoned. As Jenna's sobs grew quiet, he glanced at the floor and saw her phone. She probably called Aziraphale. What the hell did they talk about?

Jenna sniffled and wiped her eyes with her robe belt. "I'm sorry, Crow," she said thickly, looking up into his face. "Zira and I had a good talk, and he confirmed everything you said. He just said some--some very kind things at the end that--well, I didn't expect to start crying, but--"

"Ooooh, okay," said Crowley, finally getting it. He gently brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and hugged her comfortingly. "I understand, love. I'm here."

She sniffled again and buried her wet face in his chest. He sighed and closed his eyes: he loved the feeling of her face nuzzling his chest, neck, shoulder, etc. Inhaling, he also noticed no trace of the heady aroma she had surrounding her before, only lavender, eucalyptus and sweat. 

"Do I still smell like Seduction?" Jenna asked apprehensively, her voice muffled by his shirt. 

Crowley laughed and hugged her to him tighter. "No darling, you smell like you again. Which, to be honest, is much more seductive than what demons use to lure mortals to sin."

Jenna snorted disdainfully and she looked up at him with a wry smile. As their eyes met, her body squirmed a bit and she became suddenly very aware that she was sitting in a stunning man's lap while wearing nothing but a robe. A pretty thick and fluffy one, to be sure, but still--it was the principle of the thing.

Upon seeing her sudden discomfort, Crowley became conscious of these facts as well and in response, simultaneously turned beet red and forgot how to breathe. He unwrapped his long arms from her body and leaning back as though trying to touch her as little as possible, even though she was still on his lap. 

"Um, thanks for, uh--" she began, gingerly lifting herself up and off his legs. 

"Y-yeah, no, I-it's fine, totally fine!" he stammered, looking away as though giving her privacy. They both stood up and awkwardly avoided eye contact.

"Um," he finally said after a minute, still looking down, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable--I shouldn't have said that, I'm such a--"

"No, no! You're fine, Crowley!" Jenna laughed, hugging Crowley and kissing his cheek. "What you said was very sweet, I'm just--um, I don't know, just, getting used to the whole, living-with-my-boyfriend thing." She mumbled the last few sentences quietly and nearly unintelligibly, but Crowley got the gist. 

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, still finding it hard to look at Jenna and hoping his face wasn't obnoxiously red. Both had discussed the topic of sex, and decided to refrain from any physical intimacy beyond kissing and snuggling right now. His plan was and would always be to follow her lead regarding anything else she wanted or didn't want to do. This served their relationship well, as it helped Jenna build trust and confidence and Crowley see Jenna less as an unattainable goddess and more as a real, compassionate, truly extraordinary person who genuinely cared about him (though he still had no idea why). 

He shook his head, clearing it before finally responding to Jenna. "I know it's weird," he agreed, trying to look into her gorgeous eyes, "and I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfort--"

"You never do, Crow," she interrupted, smiling with slight exasperation at him. "I know you feel like you do a lot, but I have never felt safer, happier or more, well, myself, than I do when I'm with you," she confessed. 

Crowley stared at her, stunned, as both his internal angel and devil held hands and danced in a circle around his heart, which seemed to be growing three sizes. 

Finally, he cleared his throat, scratched the back of his head again and said, "Well, that's alright then." 

Jenna giggled, then snuggled into his arms again. When she couldn't see his face, Crowley smiled softly and let his tears flow freely and silently as they stood in the hall embracing each other, the only sound audible to either being their alternating heartbeats.


	22. In which Crowley and Jenna celebrate Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers, and Happy Winter Solstice! Sorry for the long delay between chapters, I'll try to post more frequently. Here's some Halloween fun before things darken in the next chapter. Nothing too awful, just all part of my ineffable plan! (Or is it my Great Plan? Are they the same? IT IZ WRITTEN!)
> 
> Enjoy and leave feedback plz!

"Happy Halloween!" exclaimed Crowley when Jenna walked into the kitchen at 8:02am. She had just rolled out of bed to get some breakfast, wearing a thick tartan (from Aziraphale, obviously) robe over warm pajamas, messy hair and bleary eyes, and started when he jumped up from the table like an orange and black gremlin. 

"Ah!" she cried, clutching her heart and staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "You scared the hell out of me!"

Crowley chuckled. "Fun fact: you can actually scare the hell out of someone if you have a good enough exorcist," he teased, smirking proudly and crossing his arms over the jack o' lantern grinning on his neon orange shirt. 

Jenna rolled her eyes and smiled. "I should have known you'd be excited for today," she said, sitting down across from him and crossing her own arms. "I didn't expect to see you till 11 at the earliest, sleepyhead." 

Crowley scoffed and waved his right hand dismissively. "Oh please, I've been up for hours. Between creating decorations to put up and--"

"Decorations? For the flat?" Jenna interrupted, raising an eyebrow and squinting her eyes at him with suspicion. "I thought you said decorating during the holidays was lame and kitschy. Besides, you hate participating in the demonic rituals that you invented for humans." 

Crowley frowned in alarm. "What? I never said that! Well, maybe not to--well, what I mean is--um, wh-who told you I said that?" he stuttered, his handsome face scowling with annoyance but his golden eyes apprehensive. 

Jenna smirked. "Zira told me before we met. We were discussing how he loves to decorate the shop for Christmas, but you always mock him for it, saying it's "lame" and "kitschy," among other things."

"Oh, bugger," muttered Crowley, resting his forehead on his left hand in defeat. 

"And later, when you revealed your supernatural lineages, Zira added that you're the one who actually started the whole "decorate your house for Christmas, Valentine's Day, Halloween," etc. to help capitalism along," she added, enjoying his obvious discomfort. "And you yourself have said on numerous occasions how much you hate to engage in the rituals or use the items you invented to corrupt humanity, so." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled very attractively, trying not to laugh at Crowley's mortified expression. 

There was a short pause while Crowley thought about what to say. When nothing good arose, he decided to just wing it. No, you can't just "wing it," his internal angel admonished. That never ends well.

I'm with wank-wings on this one, added his devil, who was lounging on a black sofa eating buffalo wings and ranch dressing. As much as I hate to use profanity, I'm gonna say it: just tell her the honest-to-God truth. I know, I know, coming from me that's like, "WTF?" but seriously, dude: I think that's your safest option at this point. Crowley's angel nodded vehemently from behind the couch, both looking up at him (wherever he was situated in this delusional scenario) expectantly. 

Crowley sighed, opened his eyes and stared at Jenna's beautiful face, which was much more awake and impish now that they'd teased each other a bit. He smiled sheepishly, took a deep breath, and (G-, S-, Somebody help him) followed his internal team's advice.

"I'm sorry, love," he began, eyes sad and apologetic. Jenna's smile fell and she reached out to hold his hand, concern now dancing across her fine features. "That's all true, I hate to say. I technically invented the concept of decorating for holidays, but only to mess with humans. I never took it seriously or saw any point to it, and frequently mocked everyone who took part in it (including my best friend)," he added, shame-faced, "until, well, until I saw you and your family doing it." 

Jenna's eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. "When you saw us...you mean those holidays I spent with Aunt Anne and Uncle Graeg?"

Crowley smiled affectionately, rubbing her hand gently with his thumb. "Yes, those. I guess I can tell you now, one of the major ways I interfered in your life," he took a deep breath, "was by ensuring that, after that....disastrous Christmas when you were seven--" he glanced up at her, eyes full of pain and love, "--you spent as much time as possible with your aunt and uncle, including every major and minor holiday. That way, you could try to make happy memories that overshadowed the bad. I don't know how well my "master plan" worked, but," he shrugged, "I just couldn't bear to see that happen to you again." 

Jenna's bottom lip trembled. She got up, went over to Crowley's side of the table, sat in his lap and embraced him tightly. "It worked very well," she whispered, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "Thank you, my guardian angel." 

Crowley, who had immediately hugged her back, fidgeted slightly, still uncomfortable with her calling him that but not sure how to express why. Jenna wiped her eyes, leaned back and looked up at the demon. "Sorry, I forgot you don't like when I say that. I'll try to remember."

Crowley shook his head and smiled lovingly at her anxious face. "It's a wonderful thing to call someone, love. I just don't believe I was, or could every really be, that for you. Or for anyone, for that matter," he added, looking down mournfully. "Demons don't make the best guardians of living things, as we've seen." He gestured toward the plant room. 

Jenna laughed and nuzzled her nose against his, which he secretly adored because it sent shivers down his spine. "You grow more compassionate and forgiving with your plants each hour, Crow. And you're not really a demon anyway," she added dismissively, getting up and opening the curtains. "You're an angel who....took a bit of a detour, that's all." 

Crowley laughed. "Yeah, on the highway to Hell," he chuckled, causing her to laugh as well. 

"Anyway, back to decorations," he continued, trying to refocus. "My point is that seeing how much fun you and your extended family had putting up lights, pictures, ornaments, whatever in preparation for each holiday, as well as how good at it you personally were--" Jenna blushed and stuck her tongue out at him, and he smirked back, "--made me think it wasn't so bad."

Jenna smiled. "That's great! So, do you decorate regularly now?"

Crowley held up his hands. "Wait, all I said was that I didn't think it was so bad. Not that I would try it myself. I mean, come on," he continued, beseeching her with an extended hand and pleading eyes, "imagine how depressing it would have been to have a tiny tree in the middle of an otherwise empty apartment, "White Christmas" playing like a dirge in the background as families enjoy the holiday properly outside? Hmm?" 

Jenna shrugged and nodded. "Fair. That is pretty pathetic." 

"Thank you!" cried Crowley triumphantly, ignoring but not ignorant of her sarcasm. Jenna rolled her eyes. 

"Now, however," continued Crowley, snapping his fingers so that a huge box of Halloween decorations appeared in front of them. Jenna gasped. "Since I am not currently alone, and just so happen to be housing a world-class interior decorator--"

"Alright, you seriously need to look up "feng shui," "interior decorating" and "qualifications for Top Chef," interrupted Jenna, smiling in embarrassed exasperation, "cuz I guarantee you that whatever talents you think I possess--"

"--I thought we could decorate the house together," Crowley finished quickly and at a volume slightly elevated above her own, smirking and leaning back with crossed arms to gauge her reaction. 

Jenna blinked, looked from the box to Crowley a few times, then jumped and pumped her fist in the air, crying, "Aw yeah, best Halloween ever!" 

~

Crowley and Jenna spent the morning decking Crowley's halls with cottony webs hiding large black plastic spiders; orange and black streamers; posters of classic horror films like Dracula, Creature from the Black Lagoon and Frankenstein; suspiciously realistic skeletons that Crowley promised (and her stomach verified) were fake but she still refused to touch; and a beautiful collection of rubber bats, rats, insects, scorpions, spiders and snakes (much to the demon's delight, Jenna squealed excitedly when she saw the latter and immediately hung them around his shoulders and neck before proclaiming him "The Serpent King"). 

Crowley opted to put everything up by hand, in order to "get the full experience" as he'd put it, but Jenna, having recently mastered miracling/snapping things into existence and preexisting objects in various parts of the flat , alternated between using her hands and Celesternal powers to arrange the decorations to her liking. By 1pm, the two supernatural beings had collapsed on Crowley's couch, (which thanks to Jenna was now soft, cushy and cobalt blue instead of shiny, obsidian and leather) in utter exhaustion. 

"Hey, can we carve pumpkins too?" asked Jenna as they surveyed their handiwork. 

Crowley grinned and played with her hair. "Duh. Its not Halloween 'til you lobotomize a big orange gourd, remove its innards and scratch a smile into its flesh." 

Jenna made a face. "Yeah, in America we don't usually describe it so technically. Or disgustingly. But thanks for that!" she added, her voice and face sarcastically bright. 

Crowley laughed heartily. "Sorry, I'll try to be normal," he chuckled, gazing at his girlfriend adoringly. 

Jenna shook her head and kissed him. "Don't be normal, normal's stupid," she replied, losing herself in his beautiful fiery serpentine eyes. "I like you just the way you are. Weird, crazy demonness and all." 

Crowley's eyes filled with tears, a fact which he tried to hide by closing them and turning his face away from hers, but Jenna would have none of that. She cupped his hot cheeks with her hands and brought his lips to hers in a gentle, sweet kiss. The demon let his tears flow freely now as he deepened their kiss and clutched her to him tightly, as though terrified she would disappear if he wasn't careful. 

"Sorry for the waterworks," he croaked when they finally broke apart, foreheads rested together. "I just--no one's ever said anything like that to me before," he whispered intimately, cupping her right cheek lovingly. "I mean, I know Aziraphale accepts me, but even he's never said anything so--and you're so perfect that--well, things just feel like a dream, most of the time. With you," he finished, shyly avoiding her intense oceanic gaze. 

Jenna kissed him briefly again, then hugged him close. "Well, that makes two of us then," she replied, rubbing his upper back. 

Crowley frowned and leaned back so he could see her face. "What do you mean?"

Jenna smiled and blushed. "I never thought anyone could or would want to tolerate my OCD and other issues for more than a few seconds, if that," she confessed, looking down bashfully, "let alone....love and accept me like you do." The young Celestern glanced up at her boyfriend. "And I don't think I've woken up since we first kissed," she continued, smiling up at him sweetly. "Everything with you feels like the best, most perfect dream I've ever had." 

An intense wave of love and relief swelled Crowley's chest, and he bit his lower lip to keep from crying more. Needless to say he was unsuccessful, and the demon and Celestern spent the next half hour quietly sobbing and snuggling on his now less stylish but admittedly much more comfortable sofa.

"Alright, enough of this mushy-gushy nonsense," he sniffled at 2:15pm, sitting both of them up. "We should carve the pumpkins now, since trick or treaters tend to arrive a bit early here." 

"Sounds good," grinned Jenna. "You get the tools, I'll miracle and prep the patients, doctor." 

Crowley chuckled, hugged her and pecked her cheek. "You do that. Maybe after, if you want," he offered tentatively, monitoring her reaction closely, "we can have a movie marathon or something." 

"YES!" cried Jenna eagerly. "That's perfect, honey! Let's see," she mused, index finger on her chin as she pondered the Halloween films they could watch. "We both like the black-and-white classics, psychological thrillers, Tim Burton--oh! Oh! Can I show you Plan 9 from Outer Space?!"

Crowley's eyes sparkled with excitement. "You mean that B-rated horror movie you told me about with the real and fake Bela Lugosis?" 

"Yeah! It's hilarious, totally up your ally," she affirmed, grinning broadly. 

"Only if you share all the behind-the-scenes stuff during," he propositioned, pointing at her with a serious expression. "I want to fully appreciate the laziness and stupidity in the moment." 

Jenna laughed. "No one's ever asked me to actually talk to them during a movie before," she chuckled. "I figured you'd say the opposite, everyone's always begging me to shut up when we're watching TV. It's pathetic, really," she finished, looking guilty and sad. "I try to stop, but I'm just so used to talking during shows, analyzing them and stuff, with Aunt Anne that I just--"

Before Jenna could finish, Crowley wrapped her in a warm, comforting embrace. "I know, sweetheart. I know because I'm the same, in case you haven't noticed." 

Jenna frowned and made an enquiring noise against his chest.

"Well, you know how I go off during The Office," explained the demon, a bit embarrassed now. "Angel was always telling me in that polite way of his to shut it when we went to the theater or movies, and I was scared you'd be annoyed too." 

"Oh, not at all!" cried Jenna, leaning back and looking up at him earnestly. "I love hearing what you're thinking and feeling, especially when we're watching something together!" 

It should be noted that when Jenna responded thusly, Crowley's inner demon began skipping around his head singing "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" and plucking the petals off a daisy while his angel continued to stare through Crowley's eyes avidly, shoving popcorn into its tiny mouth and waiting eagerly for what the young Celestern would say next. 

"Plus," she continued (Crowley's demon ran over to the angel and they held each other tightly, not even daring to breathe for fear they would miss Jenna's next words), "you talk waaaaaay less than I do, so....it's really no competition." She grinned. 

Crowley scoffed. "Do not! You are apparently forgetting that 43-minute tirade I went on when Jim transferred to Stanford. Right in the middle of the episode, as I recall," he added vehemently. "Not to mention the time I bored your ears off bragging about inventing the "Kit Kat bar" jingle, or--"

"Okay, okay!" laughed Jenna. "Let's split the difference and say we're both Chatty Cathys when the TV's on, alright?"

Crowley considered this, then replied very soberly, "Can I be "Talking Tina" instead?"

Jenna blinked. "What are y--oh! From The Twilight Zone! Sure, why not?" She grinned. "As long as you don't become Annabelle, or coerce me into watching any of The Conjuring films," she added hastily, sensing the cogs already turning in his mischievous mind, "you can be whatever you want." 

Crowley shook her hand. "Deal," he announced happily. "Your Persuasion is strengthening beautifully, by the way." 

Jenna scoffed, rolled her eyes and stood up. "No, you're just getting easier to manipulate," she teased, snapping 2 round orange pumpkins on a few layers of newspaper spread on the living room floor into existence. "Ok doctor, the patients are all set. I think you'll find a scalpel, pickaxe and bone saw next to your scrubs. Meet you back here in 5."


	23. In which Jenna meets the gangs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I am really excited about this chapter for many reasons, including the introduction of two other OCs, one of which has her own story, "What Fresh Hell is This" on a03. The other, Vega, was going to get her own story, but instead I'm just gonna weave her misadventures into this and other possible "Ineffable" stories. Please let me know how I did capturing the essence of each character; I wanted to do them justice but also suggest other aspects of their personalities. Feedback is the bloodstone on which I sharpen my blade! [Or, something to that effect]. Enjoy!

Jenna jolted awake from a terrible, very abstract nightmare in which flashes of black, green, orange, white and tan light pursued her through dark corridors. Her heart was racing and she was drenched in sweat, so she spent the first five minutes of the cloudy morning laying in bed, trying to breathe evenly and slow her heart rate. Habitually she reached out for her phone and checked the time: 6:07am on Thursday, November 19 in Mayfield, London, England. Two days before her birthday, exactly 41 hours and 53 minutes (give or take a few seconds) until her Evolution into a fully-fledged Celestern would commence and last 24 hours.

The young Nephilim sighed. She was relieved her nightmare was over, but something still felt wrong, painfully wrong in her chest, like someone was squeezing her heart with a vice. Jenna often felt like this, given her OCD, anxiety and other challenges, but this was different, stronger. Almost like something was compelling her to do something, but she had no clue what.

At least, she had no idea until her phone rang at 6:10am.

Jenna glanced at the screen and smiled upon seeing Crowley's name. Sometimes he would call her from other parts of the house, to "help them pretend they lived in separate quarters like normal couples," as he explained it. She knew he still felt guilty about her living with him out of necessity rather than choice, so she humored him even though she actually loved the arrangement now that they were dating, not least of all because they spent nearly every second together. His calls and texts were very cute, however ("Did you get home alright?", "Want to see that new film downtown?", "Oh, I'm just bench-pressing 300 lbs. in my [nonexistent] home gym. You?", etc), and occurred so frequently now that she'd started to look forward to at least a heart emoji text from Crowley each morning, if not an actual phone call that would end up lasting about 2 hours and consist of random musings or stories the two had regarding, well, everything and nothing.

"Good morning," she sang, laying back against her pillows and twirling her hair around her finger.

"Well, good morning to you as well, Miss Kingsley. How lovely to hear your _melodious voice_ once again."

Jenna's blood immediately froze solid in her veins, and she forgot how to breathe, but not how to move as she got out of bed so fast it made her dangerously dizzy, upon hearing the deep, menacing voice, so unlike Crowley's, on the other end. As she held her forehead and waited for her blackened vision to return, the unfortunately familiar voice on the other end sniggered indulgently.

"Oh, come now, my dear. Don't be so shy," the male voice simpered. Jenna cringed and fought the urge to vomit. "We went to _such_ great lengths to speak to you once again, the least you could do is--"

"JENNA! DON'T DO ANYTHING THEY SAY, I'M FINE, JUST STAY INSIDE--ugh!"

"Crowley!" cried Jenna involuntarily. The male creature sighed. "Just a moment, dear." She heard some static, then a rougher, much more authentic version of the male-shaped being's tone barked to someone else, "If you can't keep the flash bastard quiet, I'll shove your kidneys down his throat!!"

Jenna's blood thawed into a steady boil so fast in hurt her veins and skin, but she didn't care. "What the fuck do you want, Hastur," she hissed venomously, glaring out the window even though he had no idea where he or Crowley was.

"That's Lord Hastur, duke of Hell to you, you abominable freak of nature!" said a third voice, much higher and whinier than Hastur's or Crowley's. Jenna's blood became bubbling magma as she heard other voices laugh at his remark and her silence. So, she was on speakerphone, was she?

"Oh, we're using titles, then?" she spat back sarcastically. The voices immediately shut up. "Well, since my dad was a duke of Hell and my mother an archangel, you can refer to ME as _Lady_ Jenna, _Archangel_ of San Diego, _Your Disgraces_ ," she finished in a mocking, nasally tone that made her meaning quite clear. "I find either that, or Your Graceful Disgrace, _far_ preferable to--what was that you shouted so eloquently? "You Abominable Freak of Nature?" I mean, come on!" she laughed mirthlessly, feeling more powerful as fury flowed freely through her body. "That's not even creative!"

There was a thick silence on the other end, then Hastur growled, "You brazen little--"

"I'll take it from here," interrupted a much calmer male voice. Jenna heard sounds that suggested another person taking the phone and pushing a button. Then, the latest voice said in a friendly, even cheerful American accent, "Hello, Miss Kingsley. This is the Archangel Gabriel, how are you this morning?"

Jenna said nothing, just stood staring at her translucent lavender curtains and feeling the soft carpet under her ice cold feet. _What the FUCK is going on?_ a panicked voice screamed in her head.

"Hello? Miss Kingsley, are you there? Michael, can I borrow your phone? The demon's seems to have--"

"I-I'm here," stammered Jenna, feeling a new burst of energy upon hearing Crowley referred to as "the demon." "Um, so, you're Archangel Gabriel?"

"Yes," said the deep male voice simply. "How are you doing this morning, Miss Kingsley?"

Jenna blinked. "How am I doing," she repeated. "You're asking me how I'm doing, Archangel Gabriel?"

"Actually, Gabriel is fine--"

"Well, to tell you the truth, Archangel _fucking_ Gabriel," the young Celestern responded clearly and poisonously, "I'm feeling a bit put off, if you can believe that." There was dead silence on the other end, but Jenna felt him listening. Good.

"First, I had a super trippy nightmare, which I'm pretty sure was Hell's doing," she began, counting off her displeasures on her left hand, "then I get a call not from Crowley, but from the psycho who's tried to kill him multiple times over the last few years, and me over the last few months.

"As if that wasn't enough," continued Jenna, her voice growing more aggressively high pitched, "Hastur has apparently kidnapped him and joined forces with you to lure me out of the flat! What, is Aziraphale tied up with you as well?" she cried anxiously, tears betraying her tremendous fear. "Are you threatening to destroy them if I don't come quietly? Is that what this call is about, Archangel _FUCKING_ Gabriel?!"

"Now, let's not get overexcited--" began Gabriel in a soothing voice.

"IS THIS WHAT THE WORLD HAS COME TO?! HEAVEN AND HELL FORMING AN ALLIANCE TO BLACKMAIL ME INTO STICKING MY HEAD OUT OF MY FOX HOLE SO YOU CAN BLOW IT OFF?! IS THAT PART OF THE DIVINE PLAN, OH WISE AND POWERFUL ARCHANGEL FUCKING GABRIEL?!"

Jenna collapsed, exhausted and panicked, on the floor, muted herself in case she needed to cry and curled up into the fetal position. Gabriel apparently did NOT know about the mute button, as she was able to hear faint noises on his end, mostly furious whispering that she couldn't decipher but the occasional "Shut it!" and "I know what I'm doing!" as well. After at least ten minutes of this, a fifth being spoke loudly, once again in a British accent.

"Give me that, I'll take care of it! Look, Jenna," said a refreshingly blunt and faintly buzzing female voice, "here's the deal: we have Crowley and the angel, and we're actually right outside his living room window on the sidewalk. All we ask is that you talk to us from the window, so we can figure this out."

Jenna's stomach twisted a bit. "What part of that was a lie?" she said impatiently.

"What the--you mean you have Truth?" hissed the voice, sounding both impressed and horrified. "Oh fuck, not another one--okay, well, most of that was the truth. That's not all we're gonna ask of you, but can you just...go to the window so we can discuss this easier?" the being finished hopefully.

Jenna narrowed her eyes. "Only if you promise not to hurt Crowley or Aziraphale in any way, shape or form," she said firmly, raising an eyebrow and placing her left hand on her hip.

The voice was silent, then groaned dramatically. "Ugh, fine! Gimme a sec. Untie them!" they barked to others around them. "Remove the gags, eviscerate your weapons and untie the traitors this instant!"

"But, Lord Beezlebub--" began Hastur, sounding surprisingly humble, confused and afraid to Jenna's ears.

"NOW!" shrieked the fifth voice, which apparently belonged to the Lord of the Flies. Jenna took a moment to appreciate the catastrophic implications of having foully swore at and insulted a very powerful archangel and bargained with Satan's right-hand demon, then decided it was too morbid for her still quite human brain to comprehend and distracted herself by listening to different beings grumble on the other end of the line as they released the prisoners and rid themselves of their various weaponry.

"Alright, yes," said Lord Beezlebub after about five minutes. "Crowley and the angel are untied, we got rid of most of our weapons and none will be used to hurt them. Okay?"

"Will they be used to hurt me?" asked Jenna, sounding far more confident than she felt.

Lord Beezlebub considered her question, then carefully responded, "Not...necessarily. It all depends on....how things go."

Jenna's stomach squirmed with fear, but did not twist in any telltale painful knots, so she took a deep breath, told the Lord of the Flies she agreed and tentatively opened her door.

Everything seemed normal, albeit a bit dark from the cloudy weather outside. Jenna crept slowly down the hallway, entered the living room and stood in front of the window, covered by a thick black curtain.

"What's taking so long?" snapped Beezlebub impatiently. "Just open the goddamn curtains!"

"Please don't take the Lord's name in vain," added the distant voice of Gabriel.

"I'll do much worse than that if you don't get out of my face, Archangel _fucking_ Gabriel," hissed the hellish prince.

Jenna rolled her eyes and fought the urge to laugh. Her fears of immediately being smote down or burned alive in pools of boiling Sulphur lessened slightly as Heaven and Hell's Bureaucracy revealed itself to be even more ineffective and childish than its expatriates had described. The young Celestern took another deep breath, closed her eyes and ripped open the curtains like a Band-Aid.

"Finally! Took you long enough--why are your eyes closed?" demanded Lord Beezlebub.

Jenna cringed and groaned at the fact that they could see into Crowley's 10th-story window that well from the sidewalk, then slowly opened her bloodshot eyes.

What she saw was not at all what she expected. Ten figures, most of them male-presenting, eight of which stood in two distinct groups of four each. No other humans, animals or even cars littered the streets; it was like a ghost town, in more ways than one.

The last two figures stood in together, apart from both groups, the demon in his customary position on the angel's left side. Crowley smiled up at his beloved, still in black silk pajamas and shoeless, and Aziraphale waved jovially at Jenna, shamelessly sporting cream cotton pajamas decorated with little yellow rubber ducks. In spite of her great fear, Jenna laughed and smiled back at them, waving crazily and wishing she could open the window.

"See? They're fine, alright?" interrupted Lord Beezlebub impatiently. Jenna matched the voice with the gestures of a short female-presenting demon with olive skin and dark hair wearing a fairly presentable suit and a hat resembling a large horsefly. Flies seemed to buzz around zeir head as well in a purposeful, rhythmic fashion (Crowley informed her of the Lord of the Flies' pronouns beforehand). "Now can we talk?"

"Let her look around first!" exclaimed Crowley behind his shoulder. "She's never seen you lot before, give her a sec!" He smiled lovingly back up at Jenna, who was shocked at his boldness in front of his former superior but very appreciative as well.

Lord Beezlebub sighed annoyedly. "Fine, traitor. Would you each like to introduce her to your respective former colleagues as well?"

"Oh, yes please!" cried Aziraphale eagerly, completely missing the venomous sarcasm in zeir voice.

Beezlebub did something funny with zeir eyes that Jenna couldn't quite see, and Crowley and Aziraphale ran as far away from zem as possible while still giving the angels a wide birth.

"You have two minutes, introductions later," Lord Beezlebub said to her brusquely. "Go."

Jenna resisted the urge to salute ironically, then surveyed the left group first, comprised of Lord Beezlebub and three disheveled figures in black. She recognized Hastur with a sour green toad on his mass of dry white hair, but not his slightly shorter and stouter dark-skinned companion wearing a vivid orange reptile on his head, nor the very thin, bald and pinstripe tuxedoed demon.

The group on Jenna's right couldn't have differed more from the left if it tried (and she was sure it did). Nearest to Lord Beezlebub stood a tall, strapping gentleman in a finely tailored gray suit smiling amiably who could only be Gabriel, based on the myriad tales she heard from Aziraphale and Crowley since August. She agreed that he was handsome, but in an artificial, "Ken Barbie doll" sort of way, with his perfect brown hair, strong jaw and immaculate clothes. Next to him was a tall female-presenting angel in a vivid white business suit that accentuated her slim, angular frame, looking toward the left side with what appeared to be disgust. The last two figures were an androgynous dark-skinned angelic being with gold paint decorating their beautiful face and a short, stout, balding male with a sour expression, tan suit and hands clasped in front of him.

"Alright, that's enough," interjected Beezlebub. "It's our turn now. Is your full name Jenna Isadora Kingsley?"

"Yes," replied the young Celestern, fear creeping back into her chest.

"And you were born and raised in--" zey checked some papers on a clipboard "--San Diego, California, USA, correct?"

"Yes."

"Did you know you were adopted?"

"No," replied Jenna truthfully. "I didn't realize until--"

Lord Beezlebub glanced up from the clipboard. "Until what?"

Jenna bit her lip. "Well, to be honest, I didn't realize I was adopted until I started acting funny, you know?" she lied, desperately hoping no one down there had Truth. "I mean, once you start sensing lies, electrocuting people and healing injuries, you start to get the idea that you're not human, you know what I mean?"

"Hmm," intoned Beezlebub suspiciously, looking up at her with an expression on zeir tiny face Jenna couldn't identify.

"So," she continued, hoping to G-, S-, well, Somebody anyway, that her Persuasion really had strengthened, "I decided to test it out. Had random people say "Jenna Kingsley is/is not adopted," the latter of which caused the most abdominal pain, of course. Which, if I really do have Truth, proved that I was adopted, and perhaps by extension not human," she finished, heart pounding like a base guitar.

"Strangers," repeated the Lord of the Flies monotonously. "You used strangers to verify your pedigree."

Jenna shrugged. "More or less, yeah."

Beezlebub blinked. "So, according to this, you didn't even participate in the crystallization test--"

"Of course she did!" shrieked Hastur, flying to Lord Beezlebub like an albino bat. "Those two bastards tested her, I know they did! She's just a slimy, lying sl--"

Before he could finish, Crowley burst into full demonic form, grabbed Hastur around the neck with a clawed hand and forced him to the concrete. Jenna didn't need the phone to hear what he said.

 _ **"If you ever speak of her in such a way again, I will dismember and boil you in holy water one body part at a time**_ ," Crowley hissed in a dark voice that permeated the minds of everyone nearby, black wings beating threateningly over Hastur's prone form. Jenna could feel the intense emotions radiating off his infernal body: hatred, terror, grief, fury, panic, desperation......

"Crowley, stop!" she shouted, ignoring the phone entirely now. "It's okay, I don't care what he or anyone else says about me! Just please calm down!"

Crowley was breathing very heavily, and with great effort tore his loathing gaze from Hastur to look up at Jenna. The second he saw her anxious face and hands pressed up against the glass, his eyes returned to their typical flaming gold and he released the duke, who started choking and gasping for air. Crowley kneeled on the ground, panting as his wings slowly returned to their dimension and he resumed his human form.

Jenna relaxed. "Thank you, my guardian angel," she whispered, not wanting anyone but Crowley to here and wondering if he could. "Thank you, darling."

"Clearly, this isn't working," said Gabriel to Beezlebub matter-of-factly. Zey held a hand over the phone, which did nothing to muffle any sounds Jenna heard from below, and scowled up at the tall archangel. "Why don't we just take her to Heaven for questioning and--"

"Heaven?!" yelled the Lord of the Flies, staring up at Gabriel as though he'd taken leave of his senses. "You double-crossing behemoth, you just want to convert her! If she's going anywhere, it's gonna be Hell!"

"I am not trying to *convert* her!" argued Gabriel vehemently, hands on his hips, saying "convert" in a slightly hushed tone. "I'm simply attempting to resolve things as smoothly as--"

"Yeah right, you pompous, self-righteous, egomaniacal--"

"I will not be spoken to in such a--"

"HEY!"

Everyone including Jenna froze as an eleventh being arrived in a light cloud of greenish light and interrupted Lord Beezlebub and Gabriel, who looked at the newcomer with a strange mixture of fear, guilt and hatred.

"Sorry to break up the party," said the female-presenting being in a seductive British accent, tossing her long red hair behind her back, "I just thought I'd stop by and see what all the fuss was about, considering it involves a new Celestern and therefore falls under _my_ ," she gestured at herself, "and not actually _either_ of _your_ ," she pointed at Gabriel and Beezlebub, "jurisdictions."

She then spun around gracefully and waved amiably at Jenna, as though they were best friends. Jenna marveled at the being's extraterrestrial beauty: her smooth, flawless emerald green skin contrasted perfectly with her shocking scarlet locks, which flowed down past her waist in wavy ripples. Her smart blouse-and-skirt ensemble accentuated her short, curvy frame, and her black boots gave her some height but not much. Perhaps most amazing were the being's eyes, which were a bit larger than those around her and a deep, soulful mahogany that seemed to swirl and sparkle like a spiral galaxy. Jenna shook her head to clear it, waved back and wondered who, and what, this being was.

"Gimme the phone," she commanded Beezlebub, who looked a bit affronted at her brusque tone.

"Vega," interjected a very annoyed-looking Gabriel, "you can't just flounce in here and expect us to--"

"Oh, don't get me started on what I can and cannot do, Gabriel," Vega threatened in a low, menacing voice. Despite their dramatic height different, Gabriel backed away from the tiny woman as she slowly advanced on him, finger raised and eyes blazing with fury. "Especially now that you and Beezlebub have gone behind my back YET AGAIN and tried to abduct a Celestern, when you yourselves know absolutely nothing about them!"

"That's not true!" said Beezlebub, sounding a bit hurt and offended now. "Hell's High Priestess is a--"

"Yes, yes, everyone knows Hecate," conceded Vega dismissively. "I meant that you don't know how to judge whether or not newly Evolved--or rather, yet to Evolve, in her case--Celesterns can control their powers and to what extent! It's not like the old days, you know," she continued, glaring at the archangels in particular. "Angelic and demonic powers grow more similar each day, rendering it increasingly likely that their dichotomous nature will not drive Celesterns insane during or after their Evolution."

Jenna blanched. "WHAT?!" she shrieked into the phone, so loudly that Beezlebub flinched and moved it away from zeir left ear. Vega took this opportunity to snatch Crowley's sleek black iPhone away from the Lord of the Flies, who tried to retrieve it but stopped after Vega snapped her fingers with a smug grin.

"That's more like it," the red-haired being said to Beezlebub, who was standing still but seething like a tiny volcano. Vega then began to speak directly to Jenna, and the young Celestern got the full effect of her brisk, charming British accent.

"Hello, Miss Kingsley," she said warmly into the phone. "I'm terribly sorry about all this rigmarole--"

"DID YOU JUST SAY I'M GONNA GO INSANE ON MY BIRTHDAY?!" cried Jenna, her voice increasing steadily in hysteria and pitch. "Oh God, oh God, I always knew I was crazy, it's finally happening--WHY DIDN'T YOU TWO TELL ME I WAS GONNA LOSE MY MIND?!" She angrily shouted the last part not in the phone, but out the window at Aziraphale and Crowley, who jumped and backed away so quickly from her agitated voice that they ran into the angels.

"Miss Kingsley," said Vega firmly, while Aziraphale and Crowley apologized to the disgruntled three celestial beings they'd tripped over accidentally, "you need to listen to me, alright? Can you do that for me? Take three deep breaths."

Jenna closed her eyes and complied, trying to slow her shallow breathing and heart rate while her OCD fears of harming others and becoming a psychotic serial killer raced through her exhausted brain.

"Thank you, Miss Kingsley," said Vega soothingly and sincerely when the young Celestern had calmed down a bit. "Alright, now, I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay? Are you able to do that for me?"

"Yes," said Jenna, feeling a bit embarrassed now but still incredibly panicked. "I'm sorry for shouting, please forgive me."

"Not at all, dear," replied Vega, smiling with surprising but very welcome kindness. "Believe me, if I was in your shoes I'd be doing so much worse than raising my voice slightly at the aggravating beings around me.

Anyway," she continued, "I apologize for frightening you, Miss Kingsley. I shouldn't have spoken so callously regarding the stability of the Celesternal species." Vega grinned sheepishly. "As everyone here can attest, I tend to speak before thinking."

Gabriel muttered something in a disgruntled manner. "What was that, Gabe?" chirped Vega, looking at the archangel over her shoulder. He grimaced and shook his head. "Nothing, Vega. Please continue."

"He said, 'or instead of thinking,'" elaborated Crowley helpfully, winking up at Jenna, "as if to imply that--"

"Don't test me, traitor," hissed Gabriel threateningly at the demon as the sky darkened above them ominously.

"Alright, that's enough," interjected Vega sharply, her lips twitching as though she was trying not to smile. "Gabriel, fix the weather please."

Gabriel shot Crowley another dirty look before closing his eyes and smoothing the few wrinkles on his chiseled features. Immediately, the dark clouds lightened to a swirling light grey, the sun peaking out ever so often.

"Thank you. Now," Vega continued to Jenna, "what I'm trying to say is that, Celesterns as a species used to be much more dangerous before the 14th century because, in general, angelic and demonic powers refused to compromise or interact with each other in any form. It was a wonder angels and demons could get close enough to procreate said mixed offspring, but that is neither here nor there. The point is that, for whatever reason Celesterns born after 1300 tend to incorporate the demonic and angelic powers without losing their sanity in the process, _especially_ if they were raised by humans," she added with a smile, looking up at Jenna with a knowing look, "as I believe you were.

"Anyway, the chances of anything bad happening during or after your Evolution, which I believe is in precisely 39 hours if I'm not mistaken," she said, glancing at her watch, " are 0.0001%, if not less." Vega smiled hopefully. "Does that help at all?"

Jenna grinned and nodded, glad that her stomach was able to verify this fascinating being's words. "Yes, it does. Thank you, I appreciate your concern, um--?"

"Oh, Vega's fine," the being said nonchalantly, waving her hand dismissively and grinning like they were old pals. "I don't use any Heavenly or Hellish titles. Too lofty for my blood," she explained, making a face like she'd just bit into a lemon. "Do you mind if I put you on speaker so we can discuss as a group where to go from here?"

"Okay," said Jenna, somewhat apprehensive now. Vega seemed to sense it, for she smiled reassuringly before turning around to face the angelic and demonic beings behind her.

"Alrighty then," she said cheerfully, pressing a button to put Vega on speaker. "You're on speaker, Miss Kingsley."

"Hello, Miss Kingsley!" called Aziraphale. "Don't worry, we're fine!"

"Everything is okay, love," said Crowley sincerely, staring up at her with his luminous yellow irises. "Vega here knows what she's doing, she's not like these wankers." He gestured vaguely to his left and right. Jenna giggled even though the Bureauracy glared at the two renegade supernatural beings with deadly precision.

"I appreciate that, Mr. Crowley," said Vega. "Anyway, to business: as things should have gone from the start, we need to transport Miss Jenna Isadora Kingsley to Purgatory immediately so my team and I can determine her Celesternal status, powers and temperament. Aziraphale," she said to the angel, who jumped. "Excellent Concealment Aura. I almost couldn't find the place, really top-notch work."

"Why-why _thank_ you, Your Highness," stammered Aziraphale, a soft pink blush spreading across his plump cheeks.

"Of course. Crowley," she turned to the demon, who jerked a bit but didn't look as shocked to be addressed as his friend, "I think it best we leave the charm up around your flat, so can you and Aziraphale please guide Miss Kingsley to Purgatory from the confines of your abode?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," Crowley bowed, then gave Jenna a thumbs up.

"Very good. So, let's pop over to Purgatory and reconvene in the conference room in, oh, let's say 30 minutes or so?" said Vega to the remaining angels and demons, who looked less than enthusiastic about her plan.

"Um, Vega, I don't think this is really necessary--" began Gabriel with a nonthreatening laugh.

"Yes, we were here first, so we get to test her as we see fit," added Beezlebub, stating their shared position much more honestly.

Vega said nothing for a moment, then laughed and said companionably, "Oh, you misunderstood me! What I _meant_ was, "If you don't get your ASSES to my domain in the next ten seconds, I will have to take this matter to a _Higher_ authority." She inclined her head toward the angels, who began shaking slightly. "Or a _lower_ authority," she added thoughtfully, now addressing the demons, who began fidgeting with their clothes, "as the case may be."

"You wouldn't dare..." muttered Hastur, backing away from Vega slightly.

"Oh, she would," replied Gabriel darkly. "Let's go." The angels disappeared in a flash of white light, accompanied soon by the panicked-looking demons who vanished in a puff of black smog.

Vega pressed what Jenna assumed was the speaker button and held the phone up to her ear again. "All set, Miss Kingsley?"

"Um...." Jenna glanced down at her grey cotton pajamas and bare feet. "I'm gonna need a sec to get ready."

"Oh, of course. Take your time. Goodbye, dear!" she called charmingly before returning Crowley his phone. She then snapped her fingers and disappeared, leaving only the trace of viridian mist behind.

Crowley and Aziraphale snapped simultaneously and instantly vanished from the sidewalk. Not 3 seconds later, they scared the living hell out of Jenna by appearing by her side and hugging her tightly, each apologizing and checking her for signs of harm despite the fact that she had remained in the flat the entire conversation.

"Can't--breathe----need--air!" gasped Jenna over Crowley's shoulder. They both laughed and released her. "Sorry, love," said Crowley guiltily, backing away to give her space. "I'm just so glad you're safe!"

"We were so worried they'd get inside!" cried Aziraphale, who loosened his hold on Jenna but continued to sob on her left shoulder.

"You were worried?" repeated Jenna wryly. "I was TERRIFIED! Heaven and Hell had kidnapped you, and I was stuck inside like a freakin' invalid! I mean," she turned to Crowley, "how would YOU feel if you thought I was calling you but Hastur's stupid, creep-ass voice answered?"

Crowley's beautiful eyes flashed red with rage, which dissipated when Jenna hugged him and said softly, "I'm just so glad you're safe too." The demon set aside revenge plots against Hastur for the time being and smiled lovingly down at his girlfriend, stroking her silky light brown hair and rubbing her upper back comfortingly.

"As much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news," said Aziraphale apologetically, "we really do need to get a move on."

"Right," said Crowley, reluctantly releasing Jenna and miracling his usual black and leather ensemble in place of his silk pajamas. Aziraphale did the same with his customary cream suit and tartan bow tie. While they surveyed their respective appearances in a nearby mirror, Aziraphale added, "Miss Kingsley, I think your black pantsuit will do nicely for the occasion, unless you had something else in mind."

"Considering I have no idea what one wears to Purgatory when one registers oneself as a Celestern," replied the young Nephilim thoughtfully, "let's just go with that." She snapped her fingers, and Immediately her old grey pajamas transformed into an attractively tailored black blazer, long pleated pants and a smart white blouse underneath. Sensible onyx heels adorned her feet, and her hair was neatly styled into a trim bun.

"How's that?" she asked the two male-shaped beings staring at her in awe.

"I didn't know you could do hairstyles yet!" exclaimed Aziraphale, folding his arms across his chest and looking a bit put out. "Or satin! Don't tell me Crowley taught you how to work with satin!"

"You look amazing, love," said Crowley softly, smiling and kissing her cheek. "And for your information," he added in a normal tone to the annoyed angel, "I taught her nothing. Tthe very first outfit she miracled was a long blue satin dress, tailored perfectly with no rips or flaws. Isn't that right, dearest?"

"Well, _technically_ it was periwinkle," Jenna corrected him, trying to look modest but finding herself unable to frown, "and as for 'flawless,' that's still up for debate--"

"Oh good Lord, we only have 20 minutes left!" cried Azirphale, staring with horror at his pocket watch. "Crowley, we need to get her to Purgatory now!"

Crowley scoffed and waved his friend's concerns aside dismissively. "Oh come on, it takes like 10 seconds to get there!"

"Yes, but what if there's traffic?" asked the angel nervously, fidgeting with his lapels.

"Traffic?" cackled Crowley. "It's 8:15 in the bloody morning, who else will be traveling to Purgatory at a quarter past 8 on a gloomy Thursday morning?"

Aziraphale shrugged sheepishly. "I just like punctuality," he muttered shyly, twisting his torso nervously.

"As do I," announced Jenna loftily, leaving Crowley's side to join her friend. Putting a friendly arm around his shoulder, she gave Crowley her best Judi Dench face and commanded, "Take us to Purgatory, demon, for 'to be early is to be on time'."

"'And to be on time is to be late'," added Aziraphale with a smile, continuing the quote.

"'And to be late is unacceptable'," both intoned with a proper British nod, then stared at the dumbstruck demon expectantly.

Crowley shook his head. "Oh for the love of--fine. Fine! Off to Purgatory we go!"

Jenna giggled and pecked Crowley's cheek. "Thank you, darling," she crooned, batting her eyelashes. Crowley blushed a deep magenta, Aziraphale giggled at his friend's distress, Crowley told him to shut it and Jenna said, "Do I have to separate you too?" in a loving but exhausted tone.

Three minutes later, the demon, angel and Celestern departed for Purgatory (the Celestern situated between the demon and angel, as the above question was answered in the affirmative when the demon threw a shoe at the angel for, quote unquote, "being a bastard.")


	24. In which an angel, a demon and a Celestern walk into Purgatory.....

Jenna, as a supernatural being raised by humans, had very limited experience transporting herself to different places using her Celesternal powers. This compounded with the fact that she was confined to her boyfriend's flat meant that she could really only Travel 100 feet or so (the farthest horizontal distance in Crowley's apartment, specifically from the back of Jenna's spacious closet to the top lefthand corner of Crowley's room) without getting severely nauseous. She no longer passed out, as she did when Aziraphale whisked her and Crowley away to Switzerland in July, but her body still rather disliked the process of her molecules dissolving into tiny specks at point A, traveling through space and time and rearranging themselves into a Jenna-like shape at point B. 

All this to say that, upon arriving in an imposing office building in what was presumably Purgatory (roughly 17 billion light years from Crowley's Mayfield flat in London) after a 10 second journey, the young Celestern promptly vomited all over the slick marble floor of a very clean and well-organized lobby. 

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry!" soothed Crowley, rubbing Jenna's back lightly and trying to look into her greenish face. "We should have put a charm on you or something--I'm such an idiot, I didn't even think--"

"It's fine, Crowley," Aziraphale assured him, vanishing Jenna's sick even as she continued to retch involuntarily. "It's my fault, I should have boosted her aura's Health levels before we departed...or at LEAST given her a peppermint, I carry them around for just such an occasion!"

"You carry peppermints around in case people start puking around you?" Crowley smirked, raising an eyebrow. 

Aziraphale blushed. "You know what I mean," he muttered as Jenna stopped vomiting and just stood with her head bent over the magically clean and unscented marble floor, breathing heavily and shaking slightly. Without taking his golden eyes from Jenna's pallid face, Crowley pulled a clean white handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and lovingly cleaned the sweat from her brow and sick from her mouth while murmuring little reassuring things like, "It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. It's all over, no more Traveling."

"Ugh," groaned Jenna, snapping her mouth and face clean and leaning her face into Crowley's chest defeatedly. "Great. Their first impression of me as a Celestern is some stupid American girl vomiting all over a nice clean lobby. Might as well be drunk on Budweiser and wearing Daisy Dukes, asking if I can meet the Queen or something equally ridiculous."

Crowley sighed sympathetically and held her tightly. "Oh love, you're so hard on yourself. No one with half a brain could ever think that about you, even the Bureaucracy." He smiled lovingly down at her skeptical face, brushing a stray brown hair back into her bun. "That being said, I'm more than willing to get drunk, put on the shorts and sneak into Buckingham Palace right now if it'll make you feel better, love." 

Jenna laughed and kissed his cheek. 

"It won't surprise those wankers much," continued Crowley thoughtfully, grinning broadly at how much Jenna's eyes were now twinkling, "but it would certainly be an excellent distraction!"

"And what are you if not an excellent distraction?" added Jenna fondly, gazing up into her boyfriend's magnificent yellow orbs of light. Crowley laughed, heartily and spontaneously, and her heart skipped around like a child through a flower field. 

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE?" boomed a commanding, clear male voice. 

The trio spun around just in time to see several hulking, heavily armored and well-armed guards approaching them, dark eyes glaring distrustfully at the newcomers. 

"Oh, dear," murmured Aziraphale. "I forgot about this. Um," he continued, addressing the guards (who had now surrounded him, Jenna and Crowley, tall spears in the left hands and flaming swords hanging off their right hips) in a louder, somewhat higher voice, as well as his trademark angelic smile, "hello there. We are here on the orders of--"

"Why do you have a live human?" barked one guard at Crowley, who was attempting to conceal Jenna with his long arms and jacket. "Live humans are not permitted here." 

"W-we don't have a human!" stammered Aziraphale, extremely unhelpfully. Crowley glared with hellfire eyes at the menacing guards and hissed sharply, "Ssssshe'sssss one of ussssssss, you missssssssserable piecessssss of--"

Before the demon could finish, the surrounding soldiers (about 10 all told) pointed their spears at him, the angel and his beloved, whom he was still trying to hide in his leather jacket. 

"Oh dear God," squeaked the angel, holding both hands up in surrender. "Crowley, apologize or they'll destroy us. Now!"

Before Crowley could open his mouth (and quite thankfully, as him doing so would have only made good on Aziraphale's prediction), Jenna broke free of Crowley's protective embrace, stood in front of her friends long arms spread out and exclaimed, "Wait, don't hurt them! I'm NOT human!"

Aziraphale and Crowley both gasped and stared at her in shock as the guards furrowed their brows and lowered their spears slightly. "What do you mean, girl?" demanded another guard (or perhaps the same guard; they all looked and spoke identical). 

"I, um, well," Jenna stammered. She hadn't really planned this far--how exactly should she explain her rather strange predicament to the guards? She glanced at her friends for help, but both continued to look at her like she'd just sprouted rose-covered antlers. Guess she'd have to do this herself.

"Well," she began, determination represented well by her staunch face and sturdy posture as she faced the guards in front of her, "I was RAISED by humans, and I guess I still have a human-ish aura--" again, Jenna glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation, but the angel still appeared to be marveling her invisible mandibles "--but I'm actually a Celestern, or will be officially in less than two days. Which is why we're here, actually," she finished brightly, surprised that she'd explained things in a fairly concise and coherent manner. "Vega--"

"QUEEN Vega," snarled several guards. Jenna resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. So, Purgatory was obsessed with titles too, huh? 

"I apologize," she said patiently. "Queen Vega requested that I, the Principality Aziraphale--" she gestured at the angel "-- and Master Crowley--" she indicated the demon "--come directly here, to what I hope to God is Purgatory," she added under her breath, "to evaluate my Celesternal powers." 

The guards looked at her suspiciously for a a few seconds, then removed their spears from the trio's respective personal spaces. "Very well," nodded one at Jenna, now stony-faced instead of doubtful or furious. "You may stay. Queen Vega will arrive momentarily to escort you to your destination." 

"Um, thank you," replied Jenna with a hopeful smile that the guard did not return. He did, however, glance at her companions (Jenna saw that they were still strangely fascinated yet terrified by whatever had magically grown on or around her within the last 5 minutes), roll his eyes and bark at his fellow officers to get in two uniform lines and march back to the South Bay, which they did so immediately. 

As soon as the faintest echoes of the guards' heavy tread vanished from the air, Crowley unfroze, punched the air while whooping and kissed Jenna briefly before picking her up by her waist, twirling her around and yelling gleefully, "Whooo-hooo! My baby's got Tongues!!" 

"Hey, put me down!" laughed Jenna, glad he was so happy but needing to know why. Crowley immediately did so and backed away, but his enormous grin remained, as did Aziraphale's. Jenna straightened her outfit and held out her arms in extreme confusion. 

"What?!" she exclaimed, laughing mirthlessly. "What in the name of Heaven and Hell are you two imbeciles so happy about?!"

"You have Tongues!" repeated Crowley very excitedly, eyes bright with mischief and apparent joy. Jenna stared at him blankly for a few seconds, then asked very seriously, "Just out of curiosity, when exactly did you lose your mind?" 

"14th century," replied Crowley instantly, still smiling. "But that's neither here nor there." He walked up to her, put his hands on her shoulders and stared down at her in amazement, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. "No one's been gifted Tongues since before Christ was born, sweetheart. Not in over 2,000 years has a demon--or anything, really--possessed such a useful, enviable--"

"But what is it?!" interrupted Jenna with great exasperation. "I LITERALLY have ZERO idea what you are talking about, Crow!" 

"What Crowley is unable to explain due to his heightened levels of jubilation," interjected Aziraphale smoothly, glancing at his demonic friend smugly, "is that, by communicating with those Purgatorial guards just now in their fluent Enochian--"

"What?!" Jenna cried. 

"--you exhibited signs of possessing the rather elite demonic power, Tongues, in which the possessor can understand and fluently communicate in every language invented by beings created, however indirectly, by the Almighty." 

Jenna now stared dumbstruck at her angelic friend, and resisted the impulse to question his sanity as well. "So let me get this straight," she began after a bit, hands together and staring intensely at both man-shaped beings. "Those guards were NOT speaking English, but...what did you say, Zira? Echin--"

"Enochian," corrected Crowley, who had finally gotten a grip on himself enough to help his girlfriend understand her current Celesternal growth. "The language created by and spoken by angels. Demons speak Enochian too, sort of, but we've bastardized it enough to where it's hard to understand the angels sometimes."

"And vice versa," added Aziraphale, giving Crowley a look that contained centuries of annoyance between immortal hereditary enemies learning to communicate.

"Yes," acquiesced Crowley with a grin, winking at his angelic friend. "It took us quite a while to develop our own hybrid of Angelic and Demonic Enochian, which we referred to as--"

"Daenochian," chuckled Aziraphale. "Oh Heavens, I haven't thought of that in years." Crowley was snickering as well. 

"Daenochian?" repeated Jenna with a small grin, distracted by the best friends' musings and therefore feeling much calmer. "You mean, you took the D from Demonic and A from Angelic and placed them at the--"

"--start of Enochian, yeah," confirmed Crowley, still chuckling and blushing slightly. "I know it's stupid--" 

"Oh, no!" cried Jenna, grabbing Aziraphale's hand with her left and Crowley's with her right. "I think it's wonderful! Not only is it clever, it was the beginning of "Your Side," the freedom you sought from Heaven and Hell's tyranny." She smiled gently at both as they looked down bashfully. "You're both incredibly brave for what you did. As one of the billions you saved from Armageddon, and Heaven and Hell's subsequent battle, thank you from the bottom of my heart."

Aziraphale squeezed her hand once tightly, then glanced up at her with tears in his crystal blue eyes. Crowley's smoldering fingers stroked hers gently, but he opted to close his eyes (which for some strange reason felt a bit wet) and avert Jenna's radiant gaze instead. 

"So, anyway!" Jenna exclaimed, knowing that changing the subject would ease Crowley's discomfort the quickest. She released her friends' hands so they could covertly wipe their eyes before looking up at her expectantly. "Apparently, I can speak...what was it again? 'Any language invented by God-created beings?'"

Aziraphale nodded. "Speak and understand without any studying," he added with a grin. 

Jenna blinked. "Wow, that's a lot....how many languages are there anyway?"

"Well," began the angel thoughtfully, "in terms of HUMAN languages, there are roughly--" 

"Oh, Crowley!!" Jenna exclaimed, running excitedly into the surprised demon's arms. "Maybe I can speak French now! Perfect, fast, beautiful, intricate French that'll make me sound pretentious and worldly!" 

Crowley chuckled at her enthusiasm and gazed lovingly down at her flushed, beaming face. " _Oui, ma belle déesse. Pourquoi tu ne l'essaies pas_?" he replied in a fairly accurate (and what he hoped was seductive) French accent. Aziraphale rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless as he watched the two lovebirds.

Jenna blushed at his compliment and request, both of which sounded like English to her. " _C'est très gentil de votre genre,"_ she murmured shyly. _"Je n'ai aucune idée de comment je l'ai fait en premier lieu, mais--"_

Jenna gasped and looked up at Crowley with wide eyes. "That was French," she stated with an intense mixture of amazement and horror. "I just spoke French." 

The demon nodded, continuing to grin indulgently at his beloved. "Quite beautifully too, if I may say so, Mademoiselle Kingsley."

Jenna shook her head. "No, I mean, I thought we were speaking English until like the middle of my second sentence," she explained. "I thought you were speaking English as well. And that's just how it was with the Enochian!" she continued, turning toward Aziraphale for help. "It just sounded like the guards and I were speaking English, not some ancient angelic tongue! Why do foreign languages sound---well, NOT foreign to me? Shouldn't they at least sound like themselves?"

"You'll get the hang of it," interrupted a female voice behind them. The trio spun around to find Vega smiling at them, her hair transformed from a dazzling mass of red waves to a neat auburn bun. "Welcome to Purgatory, Miss Kingsley. Aziraphale and Crowley, I believe you've been here before?" she asked, raising a well-manicured black eyebrow. 

The two man-shaped beings nodded nervously. "Good, then you know the general terrain," continued Vega. "Miss Kingsley, I would love to show you around my domain sometime, but for now we have roughly--" she glanced at her slim black watch "--4 minutes to get to the conference room before Gabriel bores everyone to discorporation over his new lapels, or whatever the hell those things are--anyway, shall we?" The green-skinned beckoned them down a long, dimly lit hallway that smelled of gasoline and fresh dollar bills. 

"Now, don't worry about anything, Miss Kingsley," Vega said earnestly to Jenna, whose complexion had gone from lightly tanned to ghostly white. "This is not a trial, or a hearing, or even a formal questioning. I simply summoned you and everyone else here so we could gain insight into your angelic and demonic powers, general skills, temperament and other factors, as well as monitor you in a safe, secure environment during your 24-hour Evolution period."

"What d'you mean, a 'safe, secure environment?'" interrupted Crowley with surprising annoyance. "What's more secure than an anonymous flat in central London, heavily protected by a Concealment Aura impenetrable by Heaven and Hell's biggest dunces?" 

Aziraphale gasped, but Vega laughed. "Oh, believe me, I would much rather Heaven and Hell knew nothing about this," she said earnestly, warm mahogany eyes staring into his yellow serpentine ones. "And yes, Aziraphale's Concealment Aura is the best I've ever seen," she added, causing Aziraphale to blush tomato red, "and your flat certainly would have suited her Evolution fine, _barring any unplanned challenges_ ," she said to Crowley, emphasizing her last four words and giving the demon a stern look that made him blush as well. 

"Unfortunately," she continued, still strutting briskly down the hallway slightly ahead of her three charges, "unplanned challenges are the norm during Celesternal Evolutions, we just never know what exactly they'll be. As a 5,000 year old Celestern and expert on my species," she added, gesturing to herself, "I know more about Evolutions than any being besides the Almighty, and will ensure that Jenna Kingsley remains unharmed, safe and as comfortable as possible during this significant transformation." She gave Crowley another look, though this one was less stern. "I promise." 

Crowley nodded and mumbled his thanks, but appeared unable to look at the queen so he just sniffed roughly a few times and stared at his snake boots. Jenna offered him her hand, which he gripped so tightly it was almost painful. Almost. 

"Here we are," announced Vega after another minute, standing in front of a large oak door. "When we go in, please take a seat in the center, Miss Kingsley. Aziraphale and Crowley, you know where to go." 

The angel and demon nodded at her, then each hugged Jenna warmly. 

"You'll do brilliantly, my dear," breathed Aziraphale, trying not to cry as his new friend smiled back so courageously. 

"Everything is okay," Crowley murmured soothingly in her ear, rubbing her back reassuringly as they held each other intimately close, each unbeknownst to the other inhaling the other's unique scent and praying it wouldn't be the last time they did so. 

"Thanks," Jenna murmured to her supernatural friends, offering a bright smile as she did so. She wanted to say something entirely different to Crowley, but figured it was neither the time nor the place. _Hopefully_ , she thought as Vega held the door open for them and they walked into the dimly lit conference room, _the right time and place will be soon._

 _And I'll live to see it._


	25. In which Jenna terrifies Hastur, impresses archangels and fidgets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: some verbal sexual harassment, threatened violence, descriptions of a physically painful experience

The conference room was fairly large, about the size of the one at Jenna's workplace. As she worked with children in an art museum, the similarities ended there: this space was gray, dimly lit and very cold, though still preferable to wherever Hastur had brought her to in Hell. A long, glistening and well-lit marble table faced a solitary chair, under which there was a spotlight. Behind the uncomfortable-looking metal chair against the opposite wall and shrouded in virtual darkness were two wooden seats with rust-colored stains, claw marks and leather straps to bind one's wrists, ankles and throat. 

Jenna frowned. Did Vega, who seemed so genuinely kind, really intend for--

"Seriously?!" exclaimed Vega angrily, gesturing at the room as a whole and addressing the two groups congregated separately behind the long white table. "You get here early just to make my conference room look like a psychopath's interrogation room?! Whose idea was this?" The buxom queen glared intensely at the archangels and demons, who all stared back rather proudly. 

"It was no one's idea in particular," said the tall, female-presenting archangel in a high, silvery and very lofty voice. "We all just thought this design served our purposes better, as those two are quite dangerous--" she lazily pointed an elegantly manicured finger at Crowley and Aziraphale, who stood behind Jenna "--and there's really no telling what _this_ one might do," she added, gesturing at Jenna with a smile that did not reach her cold gray eyes.

"That's Michael," Aziraphale whispered to Jenna over her shoulder. Jenna stared at the eponymous angel in shock. 'The Archangel Michael?' she mouthed, glancing back at her friend incredulously. Aziraphale nodded with wide eyes.

"Well, _thank_ you for such an...... _eloquent...._ and I'm sure....well-thought out speech, Michael," simpered Vega, her attractive smile also unable to reach her brown irises currently flashing red with barely-restrained fury. "But I'm afraid it still doesn't excuse your collective insubordination in my realm, which I will remind you only once more this century is under neither of your jurisdictions." She indicated the angelic and demonic groups with a curt nod that matched her dangerously low and silky voice well. 

The ruler of Purgatory snapped with both hands, and the chairs in the back immediately vanished, replaced by a large, plump gray couch with a low brown coffee table laden with tea, watercress sandwiches and biscuits with pink icing. Jenna's chair in the center of the room was now a comfortable cobalt blue armrest, and no longer lit by a spotlight as the entire room was currently bathed in warm light from several antique oil lamps surrounding the space, as well as a fire roaring pleasantly in a grand fireplace that used to be a rubbish bin. The icing on the cake, the cherry on top, however, was that the gleaming marble table was now simple separate wooden desks set in a slight curve facing inward toward Jenna holding several folders and papers. 

"Right," said Vega briskly, taking a coin out of her pocket. "Heads or tails?" she asked Lord Beezlebub, who was eyeing the oil lamps distrustfully. 

"For what?" zey asked. 

"To decide if we review demonic or angelic powers first," explained Vega. 

"Heads," interjected Gabriel eagerly, raising a hand and moving toward the two supernatural leaders. "Heads for angelic powers." 

"She didn't ask _you_ , wank-wings, she asked _me_ ," Beezlebub snapped at the archangel, "and we claim Heads for demonic." Zey nodded at Vega, who rolled her eyes. 

"Fine. Heads for demonic," she sighed wearily, then flipped the coin. Gabriel and Beezlebub watched it float lazily in the air before landing on the soft white carpet. 

"Heads," said Vega, grinning smugly at the disappointed archangel. "We start with demonic. Aziraphale and Crowley--" the two beings, who had been respectively eyeing the biscuits and bureaucratic squabbling, perked up "--if you'll kindly take your seats at the back, please miracle whatever refreshments you desire. I forgot if either of you ate, so--"

"He does." Crowley jerked his head at Aziraphale, who had already thanked the Purgatorial ruler and scampered over to the coffee table. "Thanks though, Vega. It's alright, love," he added to Jenna with a reassuring grin. "If you need us to kick anyone's ass, just holler." He glanced menacingly at Hastur and Gabriel in particular. 

Jenna rolled her eyes and grinned at the wonderful demon in spite of herself. "Don't worry about me, just stay away from holy water and Hellfire till we're back home."

Crowley chuckled, saluted her and joined Aziraphale in the back. Jenna rolled her eyes again and scoffed, then allowed Vega to guide her to the blue armchair. Once seated, she fidgeted as the assorted demons and archangels sat at their respective desks on either side of Vega's, a slightly larger black table with matching wingback chair, and proceeded to glare at her with varying degrees of ill intent, from strong suspicion to murderous bloodlust. 

"Alright, let us begin," said Vega, sitting and reviewing the papers on her desk. "Please state your full names, for the record."

"Wait, who's taking notes?" asked the gold-painted angel with a frown. Vega gestured with her head at a small gnome figurine on the mantle above the fireplace as if that answered the question. The angel just nodded and turned to the stocky angel on her left. "Would you like to start?"

The angel sighed. "Fine. Sandalphon," he announced in a whiny, weaselly voice, smiling unpleasantly at Jenna, who involuntarily cringed slightly in response. 

"Archangel Uriel," said the angel decorated with gold, her dark eyes narrowed slightly at the young Celestern. 

"Archangel Michael," said the tall, angular female angel primly, surveying Jenna as if she were a faintly interesting specimen in a zoo. 

"Archangel Gabriel," stated the well-groomed angel on Vega's left, glancing at Jenna ever so often with curiosity. 

"Vega, Ruler of Purgatory," recited the queen in a bored fashion without looking up from the purple folder in which she'd buried her nose. 

"Beezlebub, Prince of Hell, Lord of the Flies," drawled the demon on Vega's right, glaring suspiciously at the trembling Celestern. 

"Lord Hastur, duke of Hell," said the second demon, grimacing at Jenna as hatred and fury smoldered in his bulging black eyes. 

"Lord Ligur, duke of Hell," said the dark-skinned demon with a lizard on his head, quite a bit louder than was necessary and actually looking at Crowley instead of Jenna with something like triumph in his orange eyes. 

"Yeah, yeah, we get it, Ligur!" Crowley yelled across the room. Jenna looked back and saw he was glaring daggers at his old co-worker, shaking his head in what she knew was annoyance. "Adam brought you back, and you were clever enough to keep it from me till this morning. Congratulations; look how much you can accomplish when Hastur lets you use the brain cell."

"Alright, alright!" said Vega loudly when Ligur stood up angrily. "You too can discuss it later. Sit down," she ordered the fuming demon, who flipped Crowley off before obeying her orders. "You're lucky there's no holy water here, _Crawly,_ " he hissed in his menacing baritone. 

"Oh really, Ligur?" replied Crowley, sounding faintly interested. "Cuz last time I checked, Celesterns can create holy water, meaning Vega could douse you in a bathtub's worth of that stuff without batting an eye!"

"I'll drown you both in your own juices if you don't shut up right now!" demanded the queen. Reluctantly the rival demons complied, but continued to glare at each other with pure, unadulterated loathing. 

"Um, Sir Thew, councilor of Hell," said the last demon in his high-pitched voice, fidgeting with the buttons on his pinstripe suit as he watched Ligur and Crowley burn metaphorical holes in each other's foreheads. There was an awkward pause, during which Jenna wasn't sure if she should speak, until--

"Crowley and Aziraphale, you too please!" 

"Ngk, sorry Vega. Anthony J. Crowley, former Master." 

"Aziraphale, former Principality and Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden."

"Thank you." Vega then smiled kindly at Jenna, who cleared her throat and recited her first, middle and last name carefully and tensely. "Thank you, Miss Kingsley. Oh, I should ask," added Vega with a frown, "what do you prefer to be called?"

Jenna relaxed a bit and silently thanked the queen for her kindness. "I prefer Jenna, but I'm fine with anything. Thank you for asking, Your Highness." 

"Vega," the ruler corrected her with a maternal grin. "Alright, Jenna. And your birthday is November 21, 1995, correct?"

Jenna nodded. 

"Right. Now for the stuff that actually matters: as Heaven lost the coin toss--" Vega glanced smugly at the archangel, who fidgeted slightly as the four demons tittered lightly "--we'll start with Hell. So: what demonic powers do you possess so far, Jenna?"

"Objection!" drawled Hastur before Jenna could open her mouth. "It's _alleged_ powers that she _may or may not_ possess, not tested and inimitable skills." He leaned back in his chair and smirked at Jenna. "After all, how is the court to determine beyond a shadow of a doubt--"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," said Vega mildly but firmly, holding up a hand. "First of all, there's no court, no one's on trial, and you _certainly_ aren't the prosecution here, Hastur," she began, smiling wryly at the duke, whose pallid face burned red with anger. 

"Second, and perhaps most importantly: it's my realm, and I'll say whatever I damn well please," she continued darkly. Jenna felt everyone's palpable fear as the queen's temper flared beneath the placid surface of her calm exterior. "If you don't like it, well, I certainly don't have to tell YOU where to go, now do I?" She smiled menacingly. Hastur gulped, nodded curtly and stared down at his papers with renewed interest. 

"Great." The room's energy lightened immediately as Vega turned her attention back to Jenna. "Jenna, if you'll be so kind as to inform us of your _soon-to-be_ tested and I'm sure _quite_ inimitable demonic skills?" she asked sweetly, ignoring Hastur's death glare. 

Jenna gulped. "Well, um," she began. Her voice sounded so brash, loud and boorish in the large conference room compared with the lilting tones of the others (yes, even the demons seemed to have softer and more genteel voices than her at the moment). "I'm honestly not sure what skills or powers I have, but according to Crowley and Zir--Aziraphale," she corrected herself quickly, blushing and hoping she didn't just embarrass her angelic friend in front of his former superiors, "I seem to have Elements, specifically Aqua--"

"Mm-hmm," Vega encouraged as she copied Jenna's words on a sheet of paper. 

"--um, Tongues, apparently--"

"Which I'm guessing you discovered when my overzealous guards accosted you in Enochian," smiled Vega. Jenna shrugged, raised her arms slightly and tilted her head as if to say it wasn't a big deal, which made Vega laugh. "I'm terribly sorry about that, my dear. They're good at protecting me, but bad at, well, everything else. Anyway, go on."

Jenna nodded. "Yeah, it was nothing. Um, anyway," she continued, dreading saying the last two supposed powers and deciding to vocalize the least mortifying one first, "Crowley swears I have Persuasion, but I really don't think--"

"That's fine, we'll test it all later just in case," said Vega dismissively without looking up, scribbling it down on the paper. "Anything else?"

Jenna exhaled sharply, closed her eyes and mumbled something that even the eleven beings with their keen hearing couldn't comprehend.

Vega looked up, frowning. "Sorry, what was that?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. 

Jenna exhaled again, opened her eyes and looked up desperately, silently praying for God to intervene and do....well, _anything_ so that she didn't have to say the next power in front of Heaven's highest archangels and some of Hell's lowest demons. "Um, Seduction," she muttered slightly louder and more coherently, though still not enough for anyone else to understand. 

"Jenna, can you speak up please? It's alright, there's nothing to be--"

"Seduction!" Jenna repeated forcefully with eyes squeezed tightly shut, much louder and angrier than she meant to. The word hung heavily in the air, stuck in the pea soup thickness of the silence pervading the conference room. She sighed and opened her eyes, but focused on her fidgeting hands instead of anyone's expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it so brusquely, it's just--"

"It's perfectly fine, Jenna," Vega's soothing British accent reassured her. Vega glanced up to find the beautiful queen leaning forward toward her and gazing at her sympathetically. "There's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and we can test it out privately, just you and I. Is that alright?"

Jenna's body, which she hadn't realized until that moment was tensed up as though preparing to run, relaxed as she sighed with relief and smiled. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that," she said shyly, her cheeks burning. 

"Or perhaps Crowley could simply provide a testimonial," suggested Hastur silkily, leering at Jenna horribly, "validating her....prowess, as it were--"

Before Vega or anyone else could respond, a flash of black and red flew at Hastur, pinning him violently against the wall with a hiss. The duke cried out in fury and pain as Crowley, in his demonic form (black robes, wings, eyes fiery red with rage), squeezed his thin throat with a clawed hand and glared at his face, which was quickly turning purple. 

**"I warned you, you basssssssstard,"** he hissed in that terrible, cerebrally-invasive voice, a thin forked tongue flicking out between his fangs. **"Now it'ssssss time to pay the priccccccce--I don't expect you'll be asssss lucky asssss Ligur, though,"** he added thoughtfully, glancing back at the other duke's terrified expression. **"No more Antichrists to raise you from Oblivion after I've finished with YOU, Hasssssssstur--"**

 _"Stop it, both of you!"_ commanded a strong, female voice. At first, most of the supernatural beings assumed Vega had spoken, until the queen gasped and said in her own confident but much different tone, "Watch out!" 

Crowley and Hastur, ignorant of everything but revenge and oxygen (respectively), did not see the Rays hit them, nor did they feel the powerful representations of the Light guide them gently but firmly back to their seats and change Crowley back into his much less intimidating human form. 

They did, however, notice that they had been returned to their seats and could not leave them regardless of how hard they struggled, both physically and infernally, to do so and attack each other. They also took heed of the strong female voice, which instantly addressed both of them with a slight echo. 

_"You will both stop this idiotic feud right now!"_ it ordered. Crowley and Hastur turned, and both nearly fell out of their chairs upon seeing the voice was Jenna's. Of course it was Jenna's, they thought simultaneously. Who else's could it be? I mean, it was magnified and kind of ethereal, but other than that--

 _"If YOU can't keep your stupid mouth shut and sit through this awful experience silently like the rest of us,"_ Jenna threatened Hastur in her low, melodious and at once terrible voice, advancing on the cowering duke with a raised finger, _"I'll feel no guilt about letting Crowley do whatever he wants with you, which if you'll recall involves both dismemberment and holy water."_ Both Hellish dukes whimpered, but nodded quickly. 

_"And if YOU,"_ she rounded on Crowley with equal severity, so much so that he leaned away from her slightly, _"don't stop instigating fights and threatening others, I swear to God, Satan and Muhammad I'll send you home and lock you in an empty drawer until this is all over! I can't take the thought of you getting hurt! Do_ you understand?!" The thunderous, God-like timbre of Jenna's voice disappeared during the last few words when her voice cracked with emotion and tears appeared in her large oceanic eyes. "If anything happens to you I will never forgive myself. Do you understand that, Crowley?" she finished quietly, eyes begging him to just nod and sit there and not get destroyed. 

Crowley's heart ached at the pain in her voice and beautiful eyes. It took a surprising amount of effort to agree to her terms, but he did so and hoped he could keep his promise. He knew she was right, as twisted as it was: she would never forgive herself if anything happened to him. 

Jenna sat down, sniffled, roughly rubbed her eyes and added fiercely to Hastur, "I don't know what your deal is with me, frog-man, but if you don't treat me with basic respect, or at least disinterest, I'll cut you up and douse you in holy water myself!" 

Hastur, who had stopped cowering with Ligur and tried to recover his previous composure, began shaking and glanced with terror at Crowley, who behind Jenna's back grinned very unpleasantly, and Vega, who shrugged with a cheerful smile that said quite plainly, "You brought this on yourself, you slimy bastard."

"Well, well, well," Vega addressed Jenna vocally, shaking her head in amazement at the now rather exhausted and embarrassed young Celestern. "I don't believe a Celestern has displayed Light since High Priestess Hecate, Satan's second-in-command! Well done, my dear! Well done! Who were your parents, God and Lucifer themselves?" she added playfully, scribbling some notes down on her paper as the archangels, who looked warily impressed, did the same. 

Jenna blinked. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked, moving her head forward and tilting it slightly. "'Light'......you mean the angelic power? I thought that only proper angels could--"

"Yes, so did we," interjected Sandolphon, grimacing at Jenna with short arms crossed over his rotund belly. "At least, only _proper_ angels were supposed to have access to that particular power," he added bitterly. "Until the infamous Hecate, who most definitively is NOT a "proper angel"--"

"Hey!" interrupted Gabriel with surprising firmness and slight anger etched on his movie star face. Sandolphon and the archangels looked over at their boss in confusion. Gabriel, noticing the attention now rested on him, blushed slightly under striking violet eyes, cleared his throat sharply and began straightening his papers upside-down. "The high priestess has been a loyal Infernal Liason to Heaven for over 2,000 years, is very good at what she does, and--just--very supportive of the Divine Plan in general," he explained curtly, carefully avoiding everyone's gaze and blushing a deeper pink with each word he spoke. 

Jenna bit her lip to avoid smiling, as did Vega and Lord Beezlebub. The archangels rolled their eyes in unison, the demons turned paled and seemed close to vomiting and Jenna heard (though she didn't dare turn around to confirm) Aziraphale giggle and Crowley snicker. 

"Anyway," said Vega, still appearing as though she were trying not to grin, "If you don't have any more demonic powers to divulge, Jenna--"

"I don't," she confirmed, shaking her head.

Vega nodded. "Then, we will follow your lead and move on to angelic powers." She smiled at her expectantly. 

Vega relaxed a bit, feeling more at ease now that she had discussed the more embarrassing (and much trickier to manage) aspects of her Celestern identify. "Well, I appear to have Truth, Healing, Lightning and Vocal," she said, counting them off on her fingers. 

"And Light," added Vega, recording her responses. Jenna blushed and shrugged her shoulders modestly, but didn't argue. The archangels were looking at her very critically, and she was terrified of them accusing her of lying at any moment. 

"Very good, Jenna, thank you. How was your Balancing day?" Vega asked conversationally, as if she'd asked how the young Celestern's birthday was instead of the most physically painful experience of her young life. 

Jenna gulped and glancing at the archangels' disdainful expressions. "Um," she began nervously, "it was, um, okay, I guess--nothing memorable, really, just--just felt a bit different, that's all," she finished, smiling weakly at Vega, who raised a black eyebrow. 

"I see," the queen said slowly, staring at Jenna so intensely that the latter squirmed a bit in her lounge chair. "So, no pain that you can recall?"

"Um--" Jenna struggled to ignore the four pairs of angelic eyes burning her with their icy cynicism. "I mean, nothing too bad, really--nothing a normal person couldn't stand--"

"'K, I'm sorry, but we're gonna have to step in here," interrupted Crowley somewhat angrily, who, along with Aziraphale, had silently strode up to stand beside Jenna's seat (Crowley on her left, of course) and address the committee. "She's not gonna be able to answer, what with you lot glaring at her like she was sin incarnate," he spat hatefully at the angels, who gasped and frowned as though he'd called them demons. 

"Crowley, please stop," hissed Jenna, anxiously glancing at the angels. "It's fine, they don't need all the details--"

"Details?!" sputtered Crowley, staring and gesturing down at her incredulously. "You mean the minor technicality that you were literally _writhing_ on the bed in agony?! Or screaming like hot swords were tearing apart your organs?!"

"That is the truth, my dear," interjected Aziraphale, kindly but firmly, his bright blue eyes sad and haunted by the memories. "We were there, remember?"

Jenna sighed, closed her eyes and shook her head. "Fine, say whatever you want," she waved at them dismissively, leaning back and clutching her forehead as though it hurt. "You probably remember it better than I do anyway--"

"Yeah, and you know why that is, Jenna?" asked Crowley rhetorically and annoyedly. "BECAUSE YOU WERE LITERALLY OUT OF YOUR MIND WITH THE FUCKING PAIN, THAT'S WHY."

"Okay, okay, slow down," said Vega, trying to record their comments. "Crowley, I assume you found her first. When did her Balancing begin?"

"Um," he said, caught of guard by the question. "She said it was, um--"

"The pain woke me up around 6am," answered Jenna reluctantly, without moving or opening her eyes. 

While Vega noted that, Crowley kissed the top of her head and mumbled his apologies for being an overbearing idiot. Jenna just smiled and pecked him on the cheek, then went back to resting as her supernatural friends described what had apparently been quite a harrowing Balancing for all. 

"--every time she moved, she said it was like flaming knives stabbing her all over--"

"--the screams were awful--"

"--had no fucking clue what was going on--"

"--we each tried to miracle the pain away, obviously--"

"--yeah, obviously--"

"--and when _that_ didn't work, I mistakenly thought direct hand-to-forehead contact might prove useful--"

"--you didn't know, mate--"

"--which, given Miss Kingsley's much greater acceptance of her Angelic nature, caused severe pain, while Crowley's touch offered soothing relief that allowed her to sleep through the remaining 24 hours," finished Aziraphale, grinning proudly at his friend and clapped an arm around his shoulder. 

Crowley blushed and glared at the angel. "'Crowley's touch?' Really?" he repeated wryly. Aziraphale's smile slid off his face, as did his arm. Crowley rolled his eyes and growled, "I held her hand, Angel. All you had to say was that I held her bloody hand while she bloody slept! Crowley's touch," he muttered to himself as though it were the most offensive term he'd ever come across, crossing his arms and turning away from the angel. 

Jenna, whose eyes and ears had followed their conversation with increasing amusement, rolled her eyes, fought the urge to laugh and added to Vega, "To answer your question honestly, Vega, I suppose upon group analysis it was the most physically painful experience of my life," she admitted, smiling slightly and much more relaxed now that the archangels were staring in horror at Aziraphale and Crowley rather than in cold superiority at her. 

Vega nodded, smiling crookedly at the Shakespearean scene before her. "Yes, it would seem so," she agreed, finishing a sentence and setting down her pencil. "Just for future reference though, Jenna," she added, raising an eyebrow and smiling knowingly. "I possess Truth as well, so I suggest we both spoke honestly with each other the first time round, mostly to avoid dealing with clowns like these--" she gestured at Aziraphale, who was smiling hopefully and offering Crowley a biscuit as a sort of truce, and the demon, who glared glaringly at the cookie before ripping it out of the angel's plump white hand begrudgingly and rolling his eyes, which caused the angel to wiggle excitedly "--as well as avoid unpleasant physical sensations," Vega finished. 

"Oh," said Jenna, guilt creeping into her bloodstream. "I'm so sorry to have caused you pain, Vega--"

The queen waved her apology aside like it was one of Beezlebub's flies. "Oh it's nothing my dear, barely felt anything," she laughed casually. 

Jenna grunted quietly but noticeably as her stomach tightened its knot. She placed a hand on her abdomen, then looked up at Vega, who had stopped laughing and was staring at the young Celestern in shock. After a moment, both female supernatural beings burst out laughing. 

"That's hilarious!" chuckled the queen, wiping her eyes with a miracled handkerchief. "Here I am, admonishing you for being less than truthful with me, then I go and do the same thing!" 

"Oh, I'm just sorry I really did cause you pain," gasped Jenna, now clutching a stitch in her side instead of the telltale knot. 

Vega shook her head and smiled affectionately. "I am as well, Jenna. Perhaps our desire not to inflict slight physical discomfort on each other will motivate both of us to be equally upfront with each other."

Jenna nodded, still grinning and giggling a bit. 

"Well, that's enough of that," said Vega after a few more guffaws, shaking her head and trying to remain professional while exchanging playful looks with her new Celestern friend. "Let's move on to testing your powers."


	26. In which Jenna is Tested

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Jenna has an OCD attack (I've never had a panic attack, but have OCD and this is a very dramatized version of what my OCD attacks can feel like) involving destructive self-talk, yelling, lashing out at self and others

Vega reviewed the list of Jenna's powers she'd compiled. "Let me make sure I got this right. For angelic powers, you listed Truth--" Vega flashed the Celestern a mischevious smile, which the latter returned "--Healing, Vocal, Lightning and Light."

Jenna nodded. 

"And for demonic--" the queen shuffled a few more papers and pulled out one with lots of scribbles on it "--you listed Elements (Aqua), Tongues, Persuasion and Seduction. Is that correct?"

Jenna squirmed. "Well, I'm not certain about Persuasion--"

"Oh right! Yes, of course," replied Vega compassionately, making a short note. "That's fine dear, it's fairly easy to test and we'll do that at the end."

Jenna smiled weakly, dreading the conclusion of whatever activities she would have to perform for the committee, as it meant proving once and for all that she sucks at Persuasion (and, by extension, demonhood in general, since what kind of demon can't tempt worth a damn? _Or is it worth a blessing?_ she wondered). 

"Since we began with Hell's interests," continued Vega, her brisk voice bringing Jenna back to reality like a jolt of caffeine, "let's test the angelic powers first." Vega reviewed her list and tapped her chin with the end of her pen. "Hmm, looks like we don't need to test Truth or Light--" she muttered.

"Why not?" interjected Gabriel, frowning. "Shouldn't we, as Heaven's current representatives, determine her skill level as we see fit?" His fellow archangels nodded eagerly. 

"Not to agree with the opposition," drawled Hastur, raising his hand lazily, "but none of us have seen any evidence that even one of these so-called 'powers' exist." His fellow demons murmured their agreement. 

Vega addressed Hastur first, raising both black eyebrows at him. "Are you saying, Lord Hastur, that you'd like Jenna to demonstrate her wise use of the Rays of Light on you again? Or did it just slip your mind that she'd already kicked your ass with that particular skillset today?" 

Jenna stifled a snort behind her hand as Hastur's pasty face turned bright red. Behind her, Crowley roared with laughter while Aziraphale attempted to quiet him half-heartedly, all the while giggling himself. 

"And as Heaven's current representatives," continued Vega, rounding on Gabriel and choosing to ignore Crowley's obnoxious display of schadenfreude, "you should really know better than to interfere in matters that you neither fully understand nor secure should things get out of hand." She gazed coolly up at Gabriel, whose face was struggling very hard not to frown murderously. "Meaning that, as Jenna so eloquently put it earlier: If you can't remain silent during this ordeal, then--well, _you_ know the consequences," she finished menacingly, waving her hand as though "the consequences" meant nothing more than a slap on the wrist. However, judging by the angels' now very frightened faces, they may have meant something more along the lines of, "The beast will pulverize you so completely, there won't be any wrists left to slap."

"Anyway!" chirped Vega, directing her attention back to Jenna. "Angelic powers, Truth and Light notwithstanding--"

"Who approved Truth?" interrupted Gabriel with another frown, apparently not adequately terrified by the Purgatorial ruler's last threat. 

Vega closed her eyes, took a deep breath and opened them upon turning to face the archangel. "I did," she said firmly. "And if you doubt me, we can discuss that privately. For now, Archangel _fucking_ Gabriel," she continued, eyes flashing with mischievous glee, "I'll have to ask that you _shut your stupid mouth,_ and either _die_ , or _listen, already._ " She grinned toothily at the archangel, who bristled and puffed out like an overgrown, very upset bluejay. 

Now it was Aziraphale's turn to giggle uncontrollably, and from what Jenna could hear it sounded as though Crowley did nothing to discourage the angel taking delight in his former boss's misery. Jenna couldn't blame either of them; after hearing how abusively he treated Aziraphale, not to mention the latter's barbaric would-be execution, it only took one look at Gabriel's blushing, flustered and panicked face for a sense of righteous glee to warm Jenna's limbs and turn her mouth up in a triumphant grin. 

Vega cleared her throat primly; Gabriel angrily pretended to read his papers, not realizing they were upside-down until Michael set him right; Aziraphale began coughing and decided the gigglling wasn't worth it, so one of them (presumably Crowley) snapped him back to sorts; and Jenna wiped the smile off her face and awaited Vega's instructions, anxious to get this over with so she could mock the Bureaucracy with Crowley at home. 

"Jenna, let's make it your choice," Vega offered, kindly but with tired eyes. "Vocal, Lightning or Healing."

Jenna thought for a moment, then decided Vocal would be easiest to demonstrate, given how much she'd sung in front of crowds throughout her life.

"Excellent," grinned Vega. "Whenever you're ready."

Jenna took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and imagined she was alone in her room in Crowley's flat, sitting by the window, watching the families laugh in the park. 

_Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,_

_I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine._

_The million tomorrows may all pass away,_

_Ere I forget all the joy that is mine_

_Today._

_Well I'll be a dandy and I'll be a rover_

_You'll know who I am by the song that I sing_

_I'll feast at your table, I'll sleep in your clover_

_Who knows what tomorrow may bring._

_I can't be contented with yesterday's glories_

_I can't live on promises winter through spring._

_For now is my moment, and I'll tell me story_

_I'll laugh, and I'll cry, and I'll sing._

_Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,_

_I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine._

_The million tomorrows may all pass away,_

_Ere I forget all the joy that is mine_

_Today._

Jenna held her breath, opened her eyes and found each committee member staring at her with rapt attention, some even in awe. The angels appeared especially shocked and visibly impressed, looking at each other like they'd never heard anything like it before. The demons tried not to look too pleased, but even Hastur glanced at her a bit guiltily now and Thew had gone to far as to rest his face in his hands and gaze at her with a sleepy smile. 

Vega just smiled and nodded, her warm mahogany eyes filled with maternal love for the young being she'd just met. "Well, is it up to snuff, Mr. Archangel?" she asked Gabriel, who was staring at Jenna with wide eyes, as though entranced. Vega had to wave her hand in front of his face before he blinked and registered that he was in a room with other people. 

"Oh, um, yes," he replied, shaking his head as though clearing it and rubbing his eyes. "Yes. Completely--uh, whatever you said. Up to snuff. Definitely Vocal. Very good, Miss Kingsl--er, Jenna," he added awkwardly in a deep, business-like voice, seemingly preoccupied with his paperwork again. 

Jenna smiled softly at the archangel in spite of herself. "Thank you, Archangel Gabriel," she replied gently, wondering why her heart felt so warm and filled with love. 

"That's to be expected," said Vega as though reading her mind. Jenna looked up at her with wide eyes, and Vega winced apologetically. "Oh, sorry--forgot to mention I have Mind, meaning I can read others' thoughts. Sort of," she added, looking up with a frown. "It's a bit complex. Anyway, sorry for intruding on your privacy, but to answer your unspoken question, singing inspires powerful emotions in, well ALL living things, but especially celestial beings," she explained. "Depending on the purpose for the song and genre, you may now feel intense sadness, fear, love, anger, confusion, regret, even despair. All in your heart chakra," she added, pointing to the middle of her chest, "as you astutely noticed."

Jenna smiled. "Thank you, that makes a lot of sense." She hesitated, then asked tentatively, "If you don't mind me asking, is Mind an angelic or demonic power?"

"Demonic," answered Lord Beezlebub, just as Gabriel replied "Angelic." The two supernatural leaders frowned at each other while Vega cackled in between. 

"How in the Heaven could Mind possible be used for Good?" sneered Beezlebub incredulously. "It's infiltrating people's brains and screwing up their only private sanctuary, for Satan's sake!"

"Reading other's thoughts does not have to be destructive," sniffed Gabriel haughtily. "Many angels have used it to--"

"Many? Name one," zey challenged the archangel, holding up a grimy finger. "Just name one angel who's possessed the Mind power and I'll--"

"Well, you can't expect me to remember off the top of my--"

"Needless to say," interrupted Vega, snapping her fingers so as to mute her squabbling colleagues, "that's an excellent question, Jenna, because no one really knows on which side it originated. Not that it even matters, particularly," she added thoughtfully, calmly observing the Lord of the Flies and God's primary messenger violently gesture and mouth who-knows-what at each other. "Any quote unquote "angelic" or "demonic" power can be used for Good, Evil, Neither and every combination thereof."

The queen snapped her fingers again, instantly returning Beezlebub and Gabriel's voices to their respective corporations in time for them to finish their fight. 

"--all your fault!" screamed the prince of Hell. "If your ridiculous staff hadn't--"

"--isn't about that!" yelled Gabriel simultaneously, gesturing his arms widely and in a very unangelic manner. "This is about Cairo and you--"

The two froze in weird positions and stopped talking upon realizing that they could be heard again. After glancing at each other with wide eyes, they cleared their throats, straightened their suits and sat down at their respective desks as though nothing even remotely untoward had just occurred. 

"Can we move on to the next power, please?" said Beezlebub, zeir face still flushed slightly as zey examined zeir folders. 

"Yes, that seems like an excellent idea," agreed Gabriel, equally red and frazzled. 

Vega just grinned maliciously at both, then said to Beezlebub, "What happened in Cairo then?"

The prince of Hell rolled zeir eyes and groaned loudly. "Oh, don't even get me started! Did you know that this idiot--"

"You promised never to discuss that!" cried a panicked and frustrated Gabriel, pointing a shaking finger at his demonic counterpart frantically. "Y-you signed a contract! With your.........s-sigil....thingy--"

"My 'sigil thingy?'" guffawed Lord Beezlebub, crossing zeir arms and staring at Gabriel in amusement. 

Gabriel sputtered. "You know what I mean!" he finally spat at zem, crossing his arms and turning away petulantly. 

Vega blinked, looked once between the two feuding entities, then said conversationally to Jenna, "Sorry for the interruption, love--Healing or Lightning next?"

~

Somehow, Jenna got through the rest of the test relatively unscathed. After demonstrating her ability to repel enemies using angelic lightning (she rather enjoyed searing Hastur's hand from a seven-foot distance when he complained about how long things were taking) and heal injuries (she did NOT enjoy having to then heal said hand, especially since he wouldn't let her get anywhere near him for about 15 minutes. When she finally grabbed his hand, closed her eyes and tried to think about healing in general instead of healing her worst enemy, the superficial burns disappeared, as did an ancient scar from the Great Rebellion, which earned her some brownie points with Hell and a gruff nod from Hastur), they moved on to demonic powers. 

Regarding Elements, Jenna easily manipulated water from a glass to dance in the air and surround her like a dome; Tongues, fluently and eloquently responded in every language in which the committee members addressed her; and Seduction, revealed her potent scent to Vega in a private room, where the latter was unaffected but the foxes she'd brought in to determine the scent's effectiveness sniffed Jenna obsessively, nuzzled up against her and promptly passed out. The queen helped Jenna feel comfortable during this experience by sharing others' misadventures with navigating Seduction (she herself apparently did not possess the power, though Jenna found that hard to believe given her charm and beauty), and even taught her how to turn Seduction off ("Just think about mushrooms," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "As stupid as it sounds, it works for the pros.").

When she and Vega reentered the conference room, however, Jenna's anxiety returned upon remembering she would have to display her profound inaptitude for Persuasion. 

"Well, Jenna, only one power left, then we'll call it a day, alright?" Vega said kindly. Jenna nodded weakly, her heart racing like never before. Her stomach also felt weird now--there was a strange burning sensation unlike any she'd ever experienced. As powerful as the telltale knot, but a completely dissimilar feeling.

"Let's see...." Vega examined Hastur, Lord Beezlebub, Ligur and Thew, who squirmed in their seats like worms under an angler's gaze. "Ah, here we go. Jenna, please try to Persuade Hastur to switch seats with Thew."

Hastur, Jenna and Thew frowned at her in consternation. "What?" they said simultaneously.

"What in Satan's name will that accomplish?" scoffed Hastur.

"Never you mind. Whenever you're ready, Jenna." Vega leaned back, crossed her shapely legs and grinned at the young Celestern companionably, as if she'd asked her to simply list her favorite films rather than convince two cantankerous demons to do as she asked, at least one of whom would most definitely not out of sheer spite.

Jenna closed her eyes and tried not to hyperventilate as her heart pounded violently against her sore ribs and increasing doses of anxiety and guilt flooded her system. Her core continued to burn painfully as the all-too familiar voices in her head chided, _You_ _shouldn't have mentioned Persuasion._

_You don't have it._

_You lied._

_You're just a filthy, worthless, disgusting, evil--_

"I don't have Persuasion," she said firmly, opening her eyes and staring stoically back at Vega. The fire burned brighter in her stomach. "I shouldn't have said I do. Crowley just said I have it because--"

"She has it, okay?" interrupted Crowley, who Jenna realized was now standing right behind her head. "She just doesn't Persuade in the traditional--"

"Crowley, stop it," snapped Jenna, stoking the fire in her belly. She'd never spoken so harshly to him before, but it was necessary. The truth must be told, no matter the costs. "You _know_ I can't convince worth a damn, you just say I can to make me feel better--"

"That's not true!" he argued vehemently. He sighed, then addressed Vega. "See, she has this thing called--"

That did it. That was the breaking point. If Crowley was going to discuss her OCD in front of Heaven and Hell's elite, nothing else mattered. Not decorum, not respect, not kindness.

Not even the truth.

"NO!" she roared, suddenly on her feet and facing Crowley. The fire had erupted, and she could barely see his terrified face through the flames. "I DO NOT POSSESS ANYTHING REMOTELY RESEMBLING PERSUASION! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I AM JUST A STUPID, FAT, PLAIN, UGLY AMERICAN GIRL WHO WILL NEVER, **EVER** BE ABLE TO PERSUADE OR SEDUCE ANYONE! CAN YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?" Jenna's voice, which was so loud it hurt her ears, cracked with emotion and she collapsed on the ground, violent sobs wracking her body. "I really need you to understand this, Crowley!" she cried passionately, tears pouring down her face and extinguishing the fire slightly. "I need you to get how worthless and ugly I am! Can you please just accept that? Please?" Jenna realized she was begging now, and still she didn't care. She only wanted, _**needed**_ , the universe and all therein to know and believe how evil, disgusting, reprehensible she was, and treat her accordingly. That was all that mattered.

Jenna continued to cry in a crumpled heap on the carpet, cognizant only that the more she cried, the more the strange fire burning her alive dissipated. Once it was nothing but smoldering ashes, she coughed, sniffled and tried to sit up, and found that she was cradled in someone's warm arms.

"Oh Crowley, I'm so sorry," she sobbed, burying her face in his lap. As soft hands stroked her hair, she became aware of more and more, including the crucial fact that it was not Crowley, but VEGA, who was currently allowing her to weep into her silk skirt. Jenna realized that Vega was talking to her, saying things like, "It's okay, Jenna, take deep breaths. I need you to stop crying once the fire's out, okay?"

"Mghrm," Jenna gurgled, trying to sit up with Vega's help. Vega snapped her fingers and cleared Jenna of her nasal congestion, for which the young Celestern was eternally grateful. inhaling deeply, she wiped her lids, opened her eyes and saw, to her utter shock, that the large plushy armchair had been burnt to a crisp, as had the carpet underneath, revealing concrete scorched black as if by a blowtorch. She blinked several times in confusion, then looked at Vega when the queen sighed and smoothed her hair again. Her large brown eyes were exhausted but loving and concerned.

"What did I do?" croaked Jenna. It felt like someone brushed the sides of her throat with a pitchfork.

Vega smiled sadly. "It's fine, honey," she said softly. "Nothing to worry about. It's hard for demons as well to control their fire, especially at the beginning....."

Jenna's eyes widened. "No," she whispered hoarsely, shaking her head. "You mean, I--" 

"It's fine, my darling child," Vega assured her vehemently, gripping her shoulders and looking deep into her frightened oceanic eyes. "You simply saved me the trouble of asking if you could produce Hellfire and holy water. That's all."

Jenna's brow furrowed. Holy water? But when did she--

"The tears," explained Vega, reading Jenna's mind. "That's usually how it goes the first time for Celesterns: something upsets us, however trivial it may appear, and it ignites the Hellfire potential within us, which erupts in a Vesuvius-like fashion."

Jenna bowed her head in shame.

"Oh, believe me, dear, mine was much worse," Vega assured her, chuckling to herself. "Anyway, the only thing that extinguishes our initial burst of Hell flames is our angelic purity, triggered by almost anything and arrives in the form of tears. After this initial cathartic experience," she continued, helping Jenna stand gingerly, "it will be infinitely easier to control your fire and water, I promise."

Upon standing, Jenna saw that the room was mostly undamaged and completely deserted except for her and Vega. "The angels bolted when you burst into flames," explained the ruler of Purgatory with a smug grin, "and the demons followed suit once the holy water began flowing. No one was hurt in any way, shape or form," she added very clearly and firmly, staring into Jenna's doubtful eyes intensely and not looking away until the latter nodded. 

"As it was," Vega continued, smiling maternally again, "for your first time handling the two deadliest substances created by God, you did beautifully, my dear."

"I'll say she did," said a beautifully familiar male voice. Jenna looked around and saw that Crowley had just appeared a few feet away, smiling sheepishly. He waved, but didn't move forward.

Jenna's lower lip trembled as she felt her font of holy water overflow again. Despite her trembling limbs, she twisted around and tried to walk toward her boyfriend, but Vega held her back. 

"Sorry, let's just dry up the holy water," she said apologetically, waving a hand around Jenna's body and face. Immediately, she felt dry as a desert stone, though tears still threatened to spill out of her eyes. 

Vega grinned at her sympathetically. "Don't worry about the tears now. I shut the holy water off for you, I'll teach you how to do it next time. Go be with Crowley." The queen gestured at the demon with her chin. Jenna didn't need to be told twice, but tripped after a few steps because of how violently her legs were still shaking. When he lunged forward to catch her, Jenna threw her long arms around her neck and sobbed loudly into his chest. He gripped her tightly, cradling her head as though it was made of porcelain.

"Oh Crowley!" she cried, desperate to fix what she'd broken. "I'm so sorry for screaming at you! I'm such a--"

"No, love, I'm sorry!" he argued, voice cracking and breaking into a sob. "I should have listened to you instead of--"

"--you're so wonderful, and you do so much for me--"

"You gave me the world just by saying my name, I could never repay--"

"--I never want to hurt you, and you've never hurt me, but still I treated you horribly--"

"Not at all, love! I was just screwing things up, I should have kept my stupid mouth shut--"

"--I-I understand if you never forgive me, just please know how much I--"

"Oh, there's nothing to forgive love! Please forgive my arrogance and pride--"

"I-I love you so much, Crowley. More than anything, more than the world. I need you to know that I love you in case we don't make it out of here alive."

For the first time ever, time froze for a Celestern and a demon as they held each other tightly in Purgatory's second-best conference room. The latter flinched and gripped the former tighter, blinked a few times, then pulled her away to gaze at her in amazement.

"What did you say?" he whispered, face riddled with profound confusion.

Jenna smiled, cupped Crowley's angelic face with her hands and gazed with pure, unadulterated love into his unique, gorgeous, perfect yellow snake eyes. "I love you, Anthony J. Crowley, former Master, fallen angel and professional mischief-maker. I love you romantically, more than a friend, more than you could ever possibly love someone like me--"

"Oh, Jenna--" he moaned, his golden irises melting into molten pools of desire. "Don't say things like that--if you only knew how lovable you are--"

"--I want to spend eternity with you," continued Jenna, gripped him tightly. "I want to share every part of myself with you. You're the one I want and need, Crowley. Please never forget that, no matter what happens." Her voice cracked again during her final sentence, but there was no more need for words as Crowley devoured her sweet mouth with his, gripping her hair tightly and pressing her as close to him as she could get without feeling pain. 


	27. In which Jenna begins to Evolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: another OCD/panic attack, hurt/comfort, nightmare with main character deaths (not real but explicit and may be disturbing)

Jenna sighed, set down the thick book on Celesternal Evolutions Vega gave her earlier and slipped into her luxurious queen-sized bed, turning off the small antique lamp on her oak bedside table as she did so. After about 15 minutes of tossing and turning, she groaned, grabbed her phone from the table and checked the time. 

11:46pm on November 20, 2020. 

Exactly 14 minutes and some odd seconds until her Evolution into a complete Celestern would commence, hence her bedtime reading material, which she had inhaled repeatedly during the last 12 hours. Jenna was desperate to know everything about this strange, volatile and often dangerous transformation she was to experience in, as of now, 13 minutes and 24 seconds, despite the fact that she had yet to display all five demonic powers. Vega assured her that was quite normal, that she herself had only discovered one of her angelic powers before Evolving, but Jenna's OCD (which held several PhDs in cognitive distortion, fear-mongering, random bouts of intense anxiety and manipulation) presented a far more persuasive argument, specifically, "This Evolution will destroy your imperfect ass no matter what anyone says. It just will. Trust me, I'm a Doctor of Catastrophizing."

The only thing keeping her sane right now was Crowley's constant presence and love, which he now expressed freely and creatively, without the reserve he held before she revealed her undying love for him merely 30 hours ago. Not to say they had done anything more than passionately kiss yet (Jenna was to remain in Purgatory at Queen Vega's request until after her Evolution in a little over 24 hours), but Crowley was so beyond overjoyed that the beautiful, perfect, strong, magnificent being he loved so deeply for some strange, inexplicable reason now loved him back that he couldn't help but shower her with the affection and attention he had restrained for so long. 

After helping Jenna settle into her comfortable room in Vega's mansion (across from his and a few doors down from Aziraphale's) to prepare for and await her Evolution, Crowley promptly miracled into said room several huge bouquets of red roses, white lilies and sunflowers, as well as two potted plumeria trees (one with white and yellow flowers, one with pink); annotated, dog-eared and sticky-noted books of romantic poetry (the Brownings, Shakespeare, Burns, Byron, Frost, Poe, Dickinson) from the safe in his flat; lavender, chamomile, peppermint, lemongrass, tea tree and other essential oils, as well as the newest diffuser on the market; several spa products (facial masks, lotions, almond oil, bubble bath, etc) he knew she enjoyed; and one of those huge stuffed bears from Costco he had seen her admiring in California, which Crowley was shocked to find was, in fact, a good two feet taller than him. 

Jenna was surprised and deeply touched by Crowley's grand romantic gesture, feelings she expressed by jumping into his arms and kissing him for a solid 9 minutes. She spent the next 30-odd hours (when she wasn't reading _Celestial Infernal Evolutions: What the Hell and Heaven to Expect_ or discussing the transformation with Vega) snuggling with Crowley in her room while he read to her in his soft, seductive baritone the poems he'd selected, analyzed and fantasized about sharing with her over the years, while her lovely fragrant flowers and essential oils calmed her nerves and lulled her into a sensuous stupor. 

After Crowley finished a particularly passionate verse, they would often gaze adoringly into each other's eyes, each longing to be freely intimate with the other without pesky physical/spiritual reconstructions or Bureaucratic negotiations regarding said reconstructions looming heavy in the near future like storm clouds. Unfortunately, the young Celestern and centuries-old demon were either too shy or too terrified (respectively) to say anything for fear of finally examining the exciting but strange territory of lovemaking, or of moving too fast and screwing everything up (again, respectively). So, after a few moments of meaningful eye contact, soft profile tracing and gentle hair stroking, Crowley would resume reading, Jenna would close her eyes and the flowers would release more of their luscious, heady aromas until one or both of the supernatural entities fell asleep. 

As Jenna reflected on this, her phone buzzed loudly, sending a jolt of electric shock through her system. She picked up the offensive device and saw it was her alarm signaling it was 11:59pm. The anxious Celestern stared at her bright screen for a few seconds before placing it back on her bedside table, laying down and staring up at the ceiling with dry, bloodshot eyes until it vibrated again. 

Frowning, Jenna checked the screen and saw it was Crowley calling. Smiling, she sat up slightly, pushed the green button and teased, "Well, speak of the devil."

"And the devil shall appear," Crowley finished in his cunning, mischievous, calming voice. "Does that mean you were thinking about me?"

"Sort of," replied Jenna, shifting so that she was laying down more comfortably. "I was thinking about that last poem you read when my alarm went off and I saw it was almost midnight."

"Hmm," intoned the demon. "Yeah, that's why I called. The midnight thing, not the poem thing, although I did really enjoy reading that to you."

Jenna giggled. "Not as much as I enjoyed hearing it," she admitted shyly, then paused. "You didn't have to do that, you know I'll text you guys if I need anything during the night."

"Yeah, you said that," muttered Crowley. "I just--well, how do you feel? It IS 12:03am, after all."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "I'm perfectly fine, dweeb. Vega said no one tends to notice anything until at least 30 minutes after their Evolution begins, and even that is extremely uncommon. It's much more likely I'll feel slightly different tomorrow morning for a few hours, then fall back asleep and emerge in 30 hours from my room (or, cocoon, as I now consider it), transformed into a beautiful butterfly."

Crowley chuckled. "Well, you're _already_ the most beautiful butterfly I've ever seen--I don't think you can get much more alluring without making all the other butterflies so jealous they start getting Botox--"

"Crowley, you know what I meant--"

"--and plastic surgery--"

"Oh my God, you're such a dork..."

"--dying their antennas--"

"Fine, Rickles. I get the point, you can stop."

".....wing enhancements--"

"If you say one more word about butterfly beauty standards, I swear to Someone I'll hang up and turn off my phone," warned Jenna playfully, smiling and struggling not to laugh. "

Crowley snickered. "Alright, fair enough. I'll stop. Pretty clever though, eh?"

"Yes. Very clever. You're the king of butterfly-based humor," she replied dryly. 

"Thank you." Another awkward pause, then he said tentatively, "I, um, well, I don't mean to imply that you _wouldn't_ , but, um--"

"What is it, honey?" asked Jenna seriously, sitting up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Sorry, just--" he sighed heavily "--please tell me if you're in any degree of pain, okay? Even if you don't want me to know because you think it'll upset me--"

"It _will_ upset you, though," Jenna pointed out, hoping he'd catch on and drop it. 

"Well, it'll upset me a lot more if I find you were suffering and I wasn't there to help you feel better!" he replied, his voice laced with frustration now. 

"But--but what could you possibly do to help?" Jenna cried, upset that he wasn't getting it. "There's nothing you can do if the Evolution is uncomfortable, Crowley--I don't want you to worry about it--"

"Oh for G-, Manchester's sake, Jenna, I _want_ to worry about it!" the demon exclaimed passionately and so loudly that Jenna heard his muffled voice faintly outside her room as well. "Even if I can't help--which, yeah, I accept that I can't do a bloody thing once you start Evolving--I at least want to sit with you while you go through it, for the love of Somebody!"

There was a short pause while Crowley breathed heavily and Jenna stared at the amorphous shapes dimly lit on her carpet. "I want to be there with you while you're in pain, sad, furious, mortified, having an OCD attack--anything less than ideal," he explained in a much quieter, calmer tone. "That's what love is, Jenna--sharing every experience together, not just the good, happy ones. You're always there for me when I'm sad or moody, and I know you'd do the same of I was physically hurt--why can't I do the same for you?"

Jenna sniffled, trying and failing to conceal the fact that she had begun to cry not five seconds beforehand. "You're there for me too much," she sobbed quietly. Her voice sounded so young and small in the dark cavernous guestroom. "You are constantly caring for, helping, healing, encouraging me--it's not fair. I'll never catch up if I keep letting you do things for me. Plus, I see how upset you get when I'm hurt," she added, "both physically and emotionally. I just can't stand seeing that look on your face, Crowley," she sobbed nearly incoherently. "Please don't ask me to be the reason you feel that way!"

"Jenna, can I please come over? I think we need to finish this in person." 

Jenna sniffled and stopped crying long enough to say, "Okay." She then waited for the demon to hang up, but he didn't. Instead, he stayed on the phone with her, reminding her to breathe deeply until he was in the room kneeling next to her bed. 

"Jenna, you don't have to look at me but I'm gonna keep talking, okay?" Crowley whispered to Jenna as she wept into her pillow. After she nodded, which was all she could manage, Crowley began rubbing her upper back tenderly and began, "I hear you. I understand why you don't want me to see you hurt, or suffering. I don't want you to see me like that either, s'matter of fact," he confessed, looking a bit surprised at the realization. "I suppose if the situation was reversed--I'd actually do the same and hide or minimize my pain from you."

Jenna's sobs abated slightly, and she looked up at her boyfriend with puffy red eyes. He gazed into them adoringly as though they were the finest jewels, brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and continued, "I used to think that no one could ever help me more than I helped them, as well. I believed that for the longest time, till Angel showed me that's not how it works. We're all just doing the best we can, and while it's important to be there for your loved ones, it's not a contest to see who can do the most or weighed based on how much stuff you did for someone." 

Jenna sniffled again, turned over onto her back and took his hand gently. "Thanks," she said thickly. "I'm sorry, I like that way of thinking better, but I think I'm going to need a lot of help getting to a healthy place with--well, with a lot of stuff," she admitted shyly, eyes downcast. 

Crowley smiled lovingly, cupped her cheek gently and whispered, "That's what I'm here for, love--to help you with everything, especially the really challenging bits."

Jenna leaned into his hand and kissed it. "Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes. She suddenly felt very sleepy. Crowley gingerly removed his hand from her wet cheek and watched her breath slow until he knew she was no longer awake. Then, the demon eased his weight off her mattress, tiptoed out of the dark room and opened the door to leave. 

Just before closing it, he peeked once more at Jenna's sleeping form, thought for a moment then, amending Aziraphale's usual words to fit the current circumstances, whispered tenderly, "You will sleep safely, peacefully and soundly, my precious goddess, and awaken once you are sufficiently rested, having had a lovely dream about whatever you like best."

~

While Jenna did indeed dream of what she liked best (a certain demon, her favorite American sitcom and Hawaii), the dream was far from lovely, nor was her sleep peaceful, sound or particularly restful. 

In the dream, almost everyone from her exhstive test was there (Crowley, herself, Aziraphale, Hastur, Gabriel, Beezlebub, Vega, Ligur, Sandalphon and Michael), but they were dressed as characters from The Office. Each being was simultaneously themselves and whichever character they were representing; for example, Jenna knew Aziraphale was still himself, even though he looked remarkably like Andy Bernard (post anger management, of course) in his colorful plaid vest shirt, tan jacket and tight red pants. The nightmare began with Jenna as Pam, Crowley as Jim and Aziraphale as Andy running through a dense rainforest. Jenna looked back and couldn't see what was chasing them, but that only increased her fear for some reason. They stopped suddenly at the edge of a cliff, over which stood one of the Seven Sacred Pools on Kauai. 

Suddenly, Creed (Hastur), Charles Miner (Gabriel) and Angela (Beezlebub) materialized in front of them with horrible smiles much too wide for their human faces. Behind them appeared Roy (Ligur), Jan (Michael) and Todd Packer (Sandalphon), with equally unpleasant grins. Angela then ordered Creed and Roy to capture Jim, which they did with chains that burned his skin and made him scream. At the same time, Charles commanded Jan and Todd to restrain Andy with white ropes bound his entire body much too tight and caused him to start choking. 

Jenna wanted to lash out, maim, hurt, cry out, do anything to protect her friends, but she was frozen, as she always was in her nightmares; all she could do was watch as Angela and Charles taunted their victims, then turned their attention to Jenna. 

"Watch carefully," they advised in guttural, demonic voices, "or your other friend will perish as well." They pointed behind Jenna to a cage, where Nelly Bertram (Vega) sat, disheveled and dead-eyed. 

Charles then forced Jenna to watch as Creed handed a vase of live Hellfire to Jan, who leered at Jenna before throwing it on Andy. She tried to close her eyes or look away, but Charles made sure she watched as Andy eviscerated into a small pile of white ashes. 

Without skipping a beat, Angela took her hand and made her witness Jan hand a large pitcher of holy water to Creed, who took it eagerly, glared once at Jenna and then dumped it on the pitiful, whimpering figure of Jim. 

As Jenna watched his form melt away into nothing, she felt herself go completely numb as well. All feelings, fears, thoughts, hopes, dreams, sensations left her, so that she literally felt nothing upon seeing the being she loved more than anything in the universe die so traumatically. 

When it was done, Angela and Gabriel released her. Jenna stood still for a moment, blinked a few times, and then literally exploded both herself and everything around her in the most dramatic, bloody, visceral way possible. 

At the cacophonous sound of the explosion, Jenna bolted wide awake, drenched in sweat, cold as death and breathing like she'd just sprinted across a football field. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, which would have frightened her if she wasn't already at her maximum level of terror. As the young Celestern tried to regulate her breath and remind herself she was safe, the same deafening boom from her dream resounded again, only this time it appeared to originate downstairs and was followed by furious voices, cries of pain and what sounded like large furniture crashing against the walls. 

"What the fuck," mumbled Jenna, scrambling out of bed and running to her door, only to find it was locked. Frowning, she snapped her fingers and tried opening it again, but it remained as impassible as before. Groaning loudly, Jenna banged on the door with her right fist and shouted, "ANTHONY J. CROWLEY! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND MIRACLE MY DOOR OPEN NOW, YOU BASTARD!! HOW DARE YOU LOCK ME IN HERE, HOW CAN I HELP IF I'M LOCKED IN A FUCKING ROOM?! ANSWER ME, YOU IDIOT!!!" 

Immediately, the shouting and banging downstairs vanished. Jenna frowned and waited about 30 seconds, then her door clicked loudly to signal it was unlocked. 

"Finally!" she growled, turning the knob. "What the hell were you--"

Jenna stopped, stared at the beings outside her door for exactly two seconds before attempting to slam it in their faces, but a large hand attached to a strong, muscular and very well-dressed arm stopped her from doing so. 

"Jenna, please," implored Archangel Gabriel, his handsome face chipper and completely unperturbed by the sheer terror in hers, "we just want to talk to you. Is that alright?"

"VEGA!" Jenna shouted loudly, still trying to pull the door closed. "VEGA, THEY'RE HERE! VEG--"

"I always hate to be the bearer of bad tidings," simpered Sandalphon, who stood between Gabriel and Michael, "but Vega has been called out of town on urgent matters that do not concern you."

Jenna gave up her useless battle against the archangel's inhuman strength and glared at Sandalphon's smug expression. "What did you three do?" she hissed in a dangerously low voice. 

"It's not what _we've_ done," replied Michael in her silvery voice, offering her a parchment scroll. "It's what you're birth parents and the traitors have done which has caused us to take such drastic steps in securing your safety, my child."

Jenna snatched the parchment, opened it carefully and started reading. The language was not English (nor the characters human) but she understood it all the same. Most of it was legal jargon, but the meat of the message conveyed that, because her biological parents (Archangel Azaziel and Lord Cadmus, duke of Hell) were under arrest at the time of her birth, Jenna was and is in fact Heaven and Hell's property, to do with as they see fit, until she matures after her Evolution (which was still (she assumed) at least twelve hours from completion).

"So basically," the young Celestern replied, handing the scroll back to the archangel roughly, "you and the forces of Hell can still destroy me before my Evolution finishes in however many hours. Is that what you came here to say?" She placed her hands on her hips and glared at each angel in turn, marveling at how much hate beings supposedly of love could inspire. 

Gabriel frowned at her and scoffed. "Why in God's name would we destroy such a powerful Celestern, when we could easily convert her to work for Heaven?"

Jenna blinked. "Did you just say 'convert?'" she asked, cringing and raising her eyebrows. 

"It means to--" began Michael patronizingly. 

"Yes, I understand what it means, thank you Archangel Michael," interrupted Jenna sharply, holding up a hand. "What I do NOT understand is why you still believe, why ANY being with half a brain would still believe after so many millennia, that such a reductive, insidious and illogical process could possibly transpire, let alone repeat and prosper for generations!"

The archangels stared at her blankly. Jenna couldn't help but grin smugly at her extensive knowledge of Celesterns now, thanks to Vega's incomparable expertise. Once the angels unfroze, Michael and Sandalphon looked to Gabriel for guidance.

The Archangel opened his mouth, closed it, then smiled at Jenna charmingly. "Listen," he started, sounding and looking like a typical white male cisgender rich CEO trying to brush a scandal under the rug, "I don't know what Vega told you about "converting,"--he used quotation marks around and said the word in a very casual way, as if to denote how insignificant it really was "--but all it is is a bright, young, ambitious Celestern, like yourself--" Gabriel gestured at her with a winning grin "--choosing to exclusively dwell in Heaven or Hell and fully absorb one, rather than both, of their---well, rather _incompatible_ natures, wouldn't you say?" He winced at her apologetically, trying to elicit sympathy now. "I mean, did you really think you could be happy living as both a demon and an angel?" He couldn't get through the sentence without chuckling, nor could his three sycophants.

Jenna just stared at Gabriel expressionlessly, her blue-green eyes boring into his violet ones, the windows to his very soul. After laughing with his coworkers for a few moments, he glanced at the Celestern and noticed her staring at him with an intensity he had rarely experienced. It made him very uneasy, and for only the third or fourth time in Gabriel's 6,000+ year existence, he felt exposed. He looked away, but still felt her swirling eyes burning through his corporation into his angelic soul, which no one had seen since the Almighty created it so many centuries hence. 

Slowly, Jenna smiled very sinisterly, her full pink lips turning up while her eyes remained dark and ominous. The two lesser angels gulped and huddled together instinstively against this strange creature with her strange aura, invasive eyes and brazen tongue. 

"Are you happy, Gabriel?" she asked suddenly, cocking her head at the archangel expectantly. 

Gabriel cleared his throat, straightened his tie and tried to look imposing once more. "I'm sure I don't what you mean, but yes, I am quite happy," he replied tersely. 

Jenna's grin vanished and she looked surprised. "But how _can_ you be?" she cried melodramatically. "What with the Shadows surrounding your soul!"

Michael and Sandalphon gasped, then snarled Enochian curses at her for daring to say such blasphemous things about such a pure angel. Gabriel said nothing, just continued to stare at her, although his healthy vanished from his face instantly, leaving him paler than a ghost. 

Jenna smiled again, even more evilly if possible, and raised her hands. Instantly, strange shadows closed in on the archangels, pining them against each other until they were surrounded by a swirling, smoky dome of black storm clouds and smog. 

"You have Dark," Gabriel muttered monotonously, still staring at Jenna with a mixture of horror, shock and desperation. 

Jenna shrugged her shoulders. "How else could I have seen the Shadows in your soul?" she replied, smiling mildly now. "It looks like angels and demons aren't nearly as dichotomous as you say they are, Archangel Gabriel. Perhaps this realization will Persuade you to rethink the idea of fruitlessly converting an already normal being."

Gabriel's eyes flashed with anger. "You knew you had Persuasion all along," he accused. 

Jenna shook her head. "No, I really didn't mean that," she confessed, watching Sandalphon and Michael whimper in their Shadow yurt. "I still honestly think I don't, but that was such a good line I couldn't refuse. I am a writer, after all," she added with a grin. 

In spite of himself, Gabriel chuckled a bit. "That's a good one," he admitted. 

"Thanks," replied Jenna. After a few moments of silence, she took a deep breath and said, "So! Shall you tell me where Crowley and Aziraphale are _now_ , or _after_ I defeat you in our inevitable battle between your Light and my Dark? I know how you lot like your wars, and I wouldn't dream of depriving you the chance to overpower one of Zira's new friends." 

Gabriel frowned and looked at her with curiosity. She looked back casually, expectantly, as though she'd simply requested the time. The archangel stared at the Celestern for what seemed like mere seconds to them, and an eternity to Michael and Sandalphon (who couldn't hear anything from inside the Shadow dome and were getting pretty cold and pissed off) but was really only 3 minutes before Gabriel said something to Jenna, then bowed slightly before her. She in turn blushed slightly, released her Shadows and followed the angels downstairs, where Crowley and Aziraphale were tied up on chairs with Celestial chains and Infernal ropes, respectively. 


	28. In which someone is persuaded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Very explicit language, references to torture and killing, lots of yelling and berating

"Crowley!" Jenna ran down the rest of the stairs and across the living room to her beloved and his friend, each bound with supernatural materials to stiff wooden chairs next to heaps of destroyed settees, armchairs and loveseats. Crowley and Aziraphale also couldn't make any noise thanks to the latter's former supervisors, but their eyes conveyed their various emotions (fear upon watching the archangels descend the staircase, shock upon seeing them leading an unrestrained Jenna and relief as she hugged them tightly in turn) beautifully.

Jenna tried snapping them free from everything, but her still downloading powers weren't nearly powerful enough to overcome the handiwork of three ancient archangels, as she'd suspected. She looked at Gabriel expectantly, waiting for him to continue undoing the mistakes he'd made, but he just stared back at her with a wide toothy smile and eyes devoid of any emotion. 

"W-what's going on?" Jenna stammered, glancing from him to his partners, who were also grinning rather menacingly for angels. "I thought we settled everything upstairs--"

"Oh, we did," Gabriel assured her, walked toward her slowly and methodically with his large, masculine hands behind his back. Aziraphale's eyes grew wide with fear as he watched his former boss advance like a sleek puma on its unsuspecting prey. "You convinced us not to allow you to convert in Heaven. I think it's all for the best, anyway," he continued, glancing at his cohorts for confirmation. "Given how she responded to our proposal--"

"Oh yes, quite," replied Michael silkily with a sly smile, gray eyes flashing angrily at the young Celestern. "After Gabriel offered you a perfect immortal life in Heaven as a servant of the Lord, you accuse him of--oh, I can't even repeat such nonsense!" 

Sandalphon just shook his head at Jenna sadly and tsk'd. "Shame," he sighed. "You would have made quite a lovely angel." Gabriel and Michael nodded in agreement.

Jenna glared at them. "So this is it, then?" she spat matter-of-factly, crossing her arms and leaning on her left hip. "You're just gonna destroy three renegade beings because they're different than you? What about tolerance? What about--I mean," she laughed, holding up a hand, "you do know there's a Second Testament, right? With Jesus and forgiveness and everything?"

Jenna didn't expect anyone to laugh at her rhetorical question. Not Crowley (though she could see he was going through the motions magnificently) or Aziraphale (who was smiling but did not appear to be overcome with silent cackles like his demonic friend), and certainly not the three archangels, who did nothing more than glare with righteous fury at the young Celestern after their sinister grins slid off their faces faster than water slides off....whatever it is water slides off. 

Therefore, Jenna was quite put off when two deep male voices sniggered unpleasantly somewhere behind her (maybe 10 feet at most) once she finished her remarks. 

"That was funny, that was," chuckled the first with a slight cockney accent she barely recognized. "You lot didn't tell us she had a sense of humor."

Michael grimaced at the figures behind Jenna and replied, "We would have if she did. What took you so long?"

"We had to convince Beezlebub that Vega needed zem to meet with her immediately," drawled the all-to-familiar second voice, "as you did with the queen." 

Jenna cringed and felt like spiders were slowly creeping up her arms and spine as she heard footsteps walking toward her.

"I still feel like it's a waste of time," continued Hastur, his feet clicking on the ground lightly with each step he took. "She's too weak, won't last a day in Hell. Why didn't she want to go to Heaven?"

"I don't know," Gabriel shrugged, nonplussed. Jenna tried to ignore the knot in her stomach and focus instead on her breathing. Yesterday, Vega explained that breath regulation and mental concentration (mindfulness) were two of the most beneficial ways to feel and manipulate Source. 

"Probably didn't want to leave her boyfriend," sneered Ligur, who sounded much closer to Jenna. Glancing behind her right shoulder, she saw the stocky demon sneer down at Crowley's panicked face and grip his shoulder much too tightly. "Guess you didn't tell her he's getting destroyed either way, along with his angel friend."

Jenna's breath hitched. _No_ , she commanded herself. _They're just trying to scare you. Stay focused. In and out, in and out, in and out....._

"Well, she'll join him in Oblivion soon enough," simpered Hastur on Jenna's left, so close that Jenna could smell his rancid breath. "I can't imagine her conversion in Hell lasting more than a few seconds before she's just a useless pile of flesh and bones, fit only for a nice Celesternal execution--"

" _LIBRA!"_ intoned Jenna, closing her eyes and flinging her arms out so that her left hand faced the angels and her right the demons. " _Tum! Omnis! Miscetis! Misce! Griseo!"_ With each word she recited, the blossoming Celestern felt more powerful. She could now feel Source around her, wrap her fingers around it, change it's color....

She started with Hastur and Ligur, who were staring at her with mere confusion until she smiled her most beautiful smile, blue-green eyes sparkling intensely, and cried, "Let there be Light!"

White shining Rays, infinitely brighter than the golden ones she manipulated in the conference room, blasted the two demons across the room and imprisoned them in shimmering cages, with bars of light that burned their hands when they tried desperately to break them apart. 

As Hastur and Ligur stood and looked at her in abject terror, Jenna turned to the archangels, who had all huddled behind a dilapidated sofa except Gabriel, who seemed to be frozen in horror at what he knew was coming. She locked eyes with the angel, shook her head sadly, and grinned the same demonic grin he had witnessed upstairs.

" _Hello Darkness my old friend_ ," sang the Celestern as tendrils of smoky Shadows emerged from her left fingertips and encircled Gabriel and his croonies. " _I've come to talk with you again......_ "

Within mere seconds, Gabriel, Michael and Sandophal were wrapped in separate cocoons of what looked like writhing black snakes, slithering around them as they sobbed and prayed for release. Their cries for help stung Jenna's heart, but she engineered their prisons so that they could breathe and move fairly comfortably, so she felt no guilt when she turned her back on them toward the love of her life and their best friend. 

"Now, let's try this again, shall we?" Jenna flashed a normal Jenna smile at Crowley and Aziraphale before snapping her fingers on both hands with more confidence than ever. Not only did the chains and ropes vanish, so did the cuts and bruises each had sustained during the fight she'd heard from her room, as well as the fear from their eyes. 

"Oh my dear Lord!" croaked Aziraphale, staring in awe at the teary-eyed Celestern. 

"Oh Jenna--" Crowley moaned as they warmly embraced. "I thought--oh my dear Lord, I thought--"

"Me too," interrupted Jenna, her voice very muffled against his chest. She deeply and desperately inhaled his familiar scent of campfire, petrichor and sweet red apples and burrowed further into his body, wishing she could stay there forever, surrounded by his loving aura and sweetness. 

"WHAT THE **FUCKING FUCK** HAPPENED HERE?!!!!!!!!!!" 

Every single being in the room tensed, jumped, screamed, shrieked or exclaimed in shock as Queen Vega's enraged roar filled the room, accompanied soon by Lord Beezlebub's incoherent growls. 

Crowley had instinctively tightened his hold around Jenna upon hearing the voices, as well as shielded her from their apparent source with his body, so Jenna sighed, kissed his nose and separated from him gently so they could watch the two irate leaders storm around the large room, screaming at the archangels and demons who had deceived them, more comfortably. 

"I knew you were a deranged freak, ARcHaNgEl GaBrIeL," snarled Vega at the tallest Shadow cocoon, which was hyperventilating and whimpering interchangeably, "but I had no IDEA you would stoop so low as to SEND ME ON A WILD GOOSE CHASE WHILE YOU AND YOUR POSSE TERRORIZED AN INNOCENT SOUL!!!!" 

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF LUCIFER WERE YOU TWO SHITHEADS THINKING?!" screamed Beezlebub at Hastur and Ligur, who cowered like small children in their Light Ray cages. "LET'S IGNORE THE FACT THAT YOU DECEIVED **ME** , YOUR _DIRECT SUPERIOR_ , WHICH IS A CRIME PUNISHABLE BY _ETERNAL TORTURE_ , FOR A SECOND--HOW EXACTLY DID YOU PLAN ON TAKING ON AN OBVIOUSLY VERY POWERFUL CELESTERN ALONE, AND DURING HER EVOLUTION NO LESS?!"

"---THE FUCK DO YOU MOTHERFUCKERS GET OFF," continued Vega, dragging out the other archangels so she could yell at all three simultaneously, "GETTING AN CHERUB--A MOTHERFUCKING _CHERUB_ , GABRIEL!-- TO LIE TO ME, TELLING ME THERE ARE SUFFERING CELESTERNS IN THE TWELFTH GALAXY, THAT BEEZLEBUB AND I CAN NIP THERE AND BACK WITH THEM IN LESS THAN 20 FUCKING SECONDS?!"

"---LUCKY IF VEGA DOESN'T DESTROY US ALL AFTER THIS! IF THERE'S ANYTHING LEFT OF YOU TWO BASTARDS AFTER SHE'S FINISHED WITH US, I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER SO MUCH YOU'LL WISH YOU NEVER HEARD OF CELESTERNS--"

"---DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT WAS A LIE! MY HEAD DIDN'T HURT! WHAT, DID YOU BRAINWASH THE CHERUB TILL HE BELIEVED YOUR STUPID LIE, YOU STEAMING PIECE OF--"

"--SO MUCH PAPERWORK, SO MUCH GODDAMN PAPERWORK YOU HAVE NO IDEA--"

"--JUST YOU WAIT TILL THE ALMIGHTY--"

"NO!!!!!" screamed the archangels simultaneously with desperation at Vega. 

"Please don't tell Her about this, She doesn't need to know--"

"--useless details--"

"--part of the Divine Plan--"

"--promoting the greater good--"

"Ohhhhhh, don't talk to me about the "greater good," Sunshine," hissed Vega in response to Gabriel's comment in a low, threatening tone. "I am Queen _Fucking_ Vega, Ruler of Purgatory, one of the most powerful Celesterns born and created by the Almighty Herself to keep Heaven and Hell in line." 

The archangels whimpered pitifully, their cocoons shaking violently. Vega sneered evilly, then turned to face Beezleub, who was muttering threats to the trembling demons. 

"Bee!" she shouted to the prince, who whipped around. "What're you gonna do with your lot?"

The Lord of the Flies narrowed zeir eyes and shook zeir head slowly, nostrils flaring like an angry bull. "You remember the Castra Torture?"

"Oooooo," Vega winced. "That's pretty rough! Good call."

"That's just the start of what we'll do to these fuckers," zey hissed, a forked tongue flicking out menacingly at Hastur and Ligur, who looked ready to swallow holy water rather than return to Hell. "Show them what happens when demons disrespect their superiors--"

"Well, in the spirit of keeping a fair balance between Heaven and Hell," mused Vega thoughtfully, "I think it's quite a fair and wise decision, Your Disgrace."

Lord Beezlebub grunted in response, practically searing curses into zeir subordinates' skin with the fire blazing in zeir dark eyes.

Vega then rounded on the archangels in their Shadowy crysallises, which resumed trembling upon feeling the queen's gaze. "Now," she said slowly and thoughtfully, tapping her chin, "what in Heaven's name are we going to do with you lot..."

"Um," interjected Jenna, raising her hand. "I have a suggestion, if that's alright, Vega."

Vega spun around to face her, looking quite surprised to hear her speak. "Oh, Jenna!" she cried, rushing over to the Celestern and embracing her warmly. "Please forgive me for ignoring you, you poor child! My stupid temper--how are you? What did the bastards do to you?" She leaned back and carefully examined Jenna head to toe. "You must have healed the injuries already--"

"I'm perfectly fine, Vega," Jenna assured her vehemently. "No one touched me, I swear. These two took quite a beating, though," she gestured to Crowley and Aziraphale with her head, brow furrowed worriedly. 

"Nothing we couldn't handle," smirked Crowley, winking at Jenna. "Right, Aziraphale?"

"O-oh yes, quite," stammered the angel, nervously surveying the damaged furniture surrounding them. "So sorry to have to destroy your beautiful antiques, Your Highness--needed something to _throw_ at the foul fiends, as it were." He laughed weakly.

"Hmm," observed the queen, raising an eyebrow suspiciously and looking up at Jenna. "Is this true, Miss Kingsley?"

Jenna thought for a moment, then replied, "In the interests of causing you and myself no further physical distress, I think I'll plead the 5th on this one."

Vega, Crowley and Aziraphale burst out laughing. 

"Seriously, though," gasped Crowley after a few moments of carefree shared happiness, "we were in terrible shape till Jenna here saved the day."

Jenna blushed scarlet as Vega smiled at her approvingly. "So I see, my dear. Looks like we can add Dark to your list of demonic powers! Oh, speaking of which," she added, gazing into the Celestern's face with grave concern. "How are you feeling? You are 11 hours into your Evolution, after all."

"Wow, really? Um..." Jenna checked in with herself, then shrugged and answered, "Honestly, I feel pretty normal! I mean, I felt different, super powerful when I used the Light and Dark--"

"Did you do so simultaneously?" interrupted Vega eagerly. 

"Damn right she did!" interjected Crowley enthusiastically before Jenna could reply. "She was brilliant, like one of those Marvel superheroes--"

"Oh, for the love of--" groaned Jenna, hiding her scarlet face in her hands.

"It's true, Your Highness," added Aziraphale, smiling down at Jenna with affectionate pride. "I thought for sure we were done for, but Miss Kingsley courageously put both the archangels and those demons in their place--"

"Yeah, with a lot of style too! She did these cool one-liners, like--"

"OKAAAY!" Jenna exclaimed, throwing up her arms and interrupting everyone. "I think we're good on details, Vega gets the point, I did Light and Dark at the same time, no big deal moving on," she rambled hastily, pulling Vega aside while Crowley snickered and Aziraphale awed at her modesty. 

"Fan club notwithstanding, Jenna," said Vega in an undertone once they were a few feet away from everyone else, "that really is quite impressive. I hope you are incredibly proud of yourself."

"Thank you," Jenna muttered quietly, blushing again. She cleared her throat. "Erm, speaking of powers--I have an idea regarding the archangels--"

"Oh yes, of course dear!" exclaimed the queen. "I completely forgot. Please continue, I'm all ears."

Jenna smiled gratefully. "Thanks. Well," she began, trying to choose her words carefully, "as much as I really, _really_ hate--well, everyone here who tried to kidnap me and destroy my friends- -I have pretty bad Scrupulosity OCD, I don't know if you know what that is--"

"I do," Vega nodded. "I know who invented it. Go on."

Jenna blinked. "Great. Good. Um, so, I really hate guilt, even though it's probably the emotion I feel the most--I mean, I'm filled with shame when I accidentally step on an _insect_ , let alone hurt someone intentionally or allow others to hurt people, even monsters like this," she added under her breath, glaring at the torn up carpet. 

Vega nodded sympathetically and offered her right hand to Jenna, who took it appreciatively. "I'm sorry Jenna. OCD is a challenge most underestimate, except those who have it."

"Thank you," Jenna sniffled, wiping her slightly wet eyes. "Sorry, this isn't about that--my point is," she continued, smiling with determination, "what if I attempted to Persuade you to give everyone in trouble here--Hastur, Ligur, Sandalphon, Michael and Gabriel--a more....constructive and eye-opening, and less--um, torturous--consequence?"

Vega stared at Jenna in amazement. "Really?" she clarified, "that's--you want to... _help_ , rather than... _punish_ , them?" 

Jenna considered her words, then replied with a crooked grin, "I don't see why we can't do both."

Vega smiled evilly. "I like the way you think, Jenna. Alright, how about this? If you come up with something that both I and Lord Beezlebub like, we'll put it into effect and consider you an official Persuader. Deal?" she held out her hand.

"Deal," Jenna replied, smiling and shaking her hand. "I've already got an idea that I'm pretty sure you and zey will find satisfactory, can we discuss it now?"

"Sure! Hey, Bee!" Vega called to the Lord of the Flies, who was playing with zeir phone and ignoring Hastur and Ligur now. "Get over here, Jenna's got a proposition for us!"

Beezlebub raised a dark eyebrown skeptically, but sauntered over anyway. "What's going on?" zey asked suspiciously, glancing between Vega and Jenna with narrowed eyes. 

"Jenna, you have the floor." Vega bowed slightly and stepped back, smiling kindly. Lord Beezlebub crossed zeir short arms, exhaled sharply and turned to face Jenna, confusion and distrust riddling zeir grimy face. 

The young Celestern took a deep breath. "Well, here goes nothing," she muttered to herself before launching into her explanation. 

"Lord Beezlebub, I admit that I know literally nothing about Hell or torture. Sure, my birth father was a duke of Hell, and I read Paradise Lost in college, but other than that I am the least knowledgeable person about your realm." Jenna turned to Vega. "I'm also no expert on Heaven, although I'm a bit more familiar with it than Hell." 

She took another deep breath. "So, you want to use the Castra Torture on Hastur and Ligur," she said to Lord Beezlebub, who nodded. "I have absolutely no clue what that is, nor do I want to, but if it's half as bad as it seems then those two bastards deserve it. And Vega, you want to tell God about everything? Doesn't She already know, Her being...Omniscient and all?"

"True," admitted Vega. "What I really mean is 'discuss the violent implications of what occurred," which the Almighty and I do on a regular basis. When the situation in question involves Heaven, it usually results in a demotion, community service or filing. Or Falling, of course," she added as an afterthought, "but no angel has Fallen for years. Ooo! Oooo! Oooo!" Vega exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands eagerly. "Are you suggesting we make the archangels Fall?!"

"Wot?!" cried Beezlebub, staring at the two female beings in utter bemusement.

"'Cuz if so, consider me officially Persuaded--"

"'Persuaded?' repeated the Lord of the Flies suspiciously. Zey rounded on Jenna, glaring at her distrustfully. "What are you trying to pull, Celestern?"

"Oh calm _down_ you drama prince!" groaned Vega. "Jenna, having a conscience, doesn't want the new traitors getting hurt, and asked if she could Persuade me to give them a constructive rather than simply painful punishment. I said if she convinced both of us--"

"Well, you're not getting me to do anything nice!" spat the prince of Hell, crossing zeir arms. "I haven't used the Castra Torture in years, and if it isn't oiled with blood ever so often--"

"No one said anything about being _nice_ ," interrupted Vega, grinning like the Cheshire cat. "Just listen to her, alright? I promise it'll be worth it. Jenna, please continue."

Jenna cleared her throat. "To answer your question, Vega, no, I don't think we should make the archangels Fall."

"Damn," swore the queen quietly.

"No," continued Jenna, grinning slightly, "that would be much too kind a punishment compared to what I'm thinking of. As would physical torture, actually," she added, tilting her head and looking up thoughtfully. "Plus, with my idea, they would still experience an ENORMOUS amount of pain--"

"Really?" said Beezlebub, a bit too eagerly. 

Vega grinned mischievously. "Oh yeah. Big time."

"Told you it was worth it," Vega whispered to Beezlebub, nudging zeir arm with her elbow.

Jenna cleared her throat again. "To elaborate," she continued, "if I've learned anything in the last four and a half months--and I've learned more than I could ever tell you--it's that everyone abhors balance. Both. All. The middle ground," she explained. "For example, while angels and demons appear to fear and hate each other above all else--"

"Demons are not afraid of spineless--" interrupted Beezlebub indignantly. 

"Oh shut up. You couldn't look at Michael without running away screaming for three centuries after the Great Rebellion," Vega sneered at zem. "Plus, everyone's bloody terrified of those higher angels with the eyes and wings sprouting up all over--"

"Yeah, they're pretty bad," admitted Beezlebub with a shiver. Zey looked at Jenna expectantly, and Vega gave her a meaningful look behind the former's back. 

"Oh, yeah, they're awful," the young Celestern agreed vehemently, despite the fact that she'd only ever seen humanoid angels. "Um, anyway--as much as demons and angels detest each other, they will do anything to destroy Celesterns--who, as you've said, Vega, represent the balance between Heaven and Hell, and indeed possess powers from both realms--even if it means working together," she explained. 

The Lord of the Flies frowned. "What's your point? Are you suggesting we somehow transform the new traitors into five Celesterns?"

Jenna sighed and resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. "No, Your Disgrace. My point is, I think that the best way to both punish and teach the traitors is to make them live, without any sort of powers or contact with their respective headquarters, as humans. For at least......one full year," she added thoughtfully. "Humans may not seem like much--or anything I suppose, when you rule Purgatory or entire armies of Hell--but they've always represented the balance between good and evil, Heaven and Hell, dark and light, effortlessly well. Sure, every once in a while you get a saint or a sadistic serial killer, but most of the time people are just--people. fundamentally neither good nor bad. Balance incarnate. As are Celesterns, only with a lot more perks."

Vega smiled and nodded eagerly, and even Beezlebub tilted zeir head and shrugged slightly in agreement. 

Jenna grinned. "Therefore," she continued, "why not transform Hastur, Ligur, Michael, Sandalphon and Gabriel into what they fear the most: balance, both good and evil, no extremes? You could also see it as "forcing the bastards to live as weak, fragile, stupid and largely useless bags of flesh and bones until they all beg for the Castra Torture," she added, smiling hopefully at Lord Beezlebub.

The Hellish ruler gaped at the young Celestern with wide eyes. Vega smiled broadly and proudly at Jenna, then glanced sideways at her stunned colleague. 

"Whaddya say ta that, Bee?" she smirked, jerking her right thumb at Jenna. "We strip them of their powers, make them find their own way on Earth for --you're much too kind, Jenna, we'll have to make it at least a decade--"

"Hastur and Ligur will need to remove their familiars," added Beezlebub slowly and thoughtfully, "which I'm told is quite excruciating and irreversible--"

"They'll have to get jobs--and with no academic credentials or work experience, too! How tragic," simpered Vega, pretending to pout.

"We could make them live together," suggested the Hellish prince eagerly, "everyone, angels and demons, in a cramped one-bedroom flat with a corrupt landlord and unreliable WiFi....."

"Oh, absolutely! And they all have to do community service, something they don't like--I know for a fact Sandalphon _hates_ animal shelters--"

Lord Beezlebub gasped, smiled like a child upon discovering a full stocking on Christmas morning and whispered excitedly, "I'll make them write everyday, at least ten pages about their experience--those bastards hate writing!"

"Might I suggest having them use a computer instead?" offered Jenna slyly, remembering a particularly hilarious story Crowley told her related to Hastur's ignorance of modern human technology. "They'd have to use the library's, since they won't have the money to buy or powers to manifest any, and part of both parties' punishment should also be that they can't break human laws--but that's just as well, cuz then you can watch them get little library cards!"

"Library cards, Bee!" exclaimed Vega excitedly. "What's more humiliating for demons than having to stand in line with a bunch of six-year-olds and bespectacled nerds to receive a little card that gives you free books?"

Exactly!" agreed Jenna happily. "Regarding the writing itself, Lord Beezlebub--they would type and save their responses in a Word document--yes, it's more efficient and less likely to give one carpel tunnel syndrome, but that's only if you're good at typing--I'd pay good money to watch those imbeciles whip out a daily ten-page paper using only their index fingers, typing one letter at a time!"

Vega snickered gleefully. Beezlebub tilted zeir face up and considered Jenna's proposal, then asked, "If we did all that, could we still call it their diaries? Not journals, not portfolios, not any of that crap--diaries, as in what preteen children use to document their latest celebrity crushes or how much they hate their parents?"

Jenna smiled, revealing two rows of pristine white teeth. "Oh, there's no way in hell you're not calling those word docs diaries now, Your Disgrace!"

To the young Celestern's infinite shock, Lord Beezlebub cracked what may have been a grin at her, one side of zeir lip rising slightly while zeir dark brown eyes twinkled. 

"Is that a yes, Bee?" Vega teased her colleague, noticing the half-grin as well. Beezlebub glared at her, frowned at zeir tiny black boots for a moment, then fixed Jenna with a stern, but not unkind, stare. 

"Miss Kingsley," zey began in a formal but still very no-nonsense tone, "I want it on record that Crowley is a completely idiot, and nothing will ever convince me otherwise."

"Bee, that's her boyfriend!" hissed Vega, rolling her eyes at the prince.

"Let me finish!" zey hissed back. "That being said," Beezlebub continued at a normal volume, "and as much as I hate to admit it, the flash bastard's right." Zey smiled this time, a real smile, which lit up zeir face and allowed Jenna to glimpse the magnificent, white gold seraphim zey had been before Falling so long ago. "You've _definitely_ got Persuasion," the Lord of the Flies finished, offering a small, grubby hand to the young Celestern. 

Jenna wanted to give zem a hug, but knew that would definitely initiate Armageddon, so she settle for shaking Beezlebub's hand, smiling warmly and replying, "Thank you, Your Disgrace. I consider that one of the highest compliments I will ever receive."

Lord Beezlebub immediatly began blinking rather rapidly and withdrew zeir hand to clean zeir eyes with a filthy red handkerchief, muttering about dust always irritating them. Jenna nodded tactfully, then added, "And for the record, I agree about Crowley being an idiot."

"Well, at least you know what you're getting into," replied the prince in a somewhat hoarse voice.

Vega patted her colleague's shoulder, smiled maternally at Jenna and extended her hand as well, which Jenna accepted as the queen remarked, "If your writing career doesn't work out, perhaps you can apply for the Cruel and Unusual Punishments Dept. in Hell. They're looking for great ideas like that."

With a straight face, Jenna responded with fake enthusiasm, "Oh, really? Cool, I'll keep that in mind! Thank you!" 

The three supernatural beings (even Beezlebub) howled with laughter at the very idea of Jenna working in that department. 

"Hey!" called Crowley's suspicious voice. "What's going on over there?" Jenna turned around and saw him frowning at their group with hands on his hips. Behind him, Aziraphale was reading on one of the wooden chairs and each Shadow cocoon was now horizontal and appeared to be snoring quietly. 

"Nothing!" Jenna responded casually. "Just discussing your idiocy. Oh, and there's a job opening in Hell, remind me to apply later."

Crowley's frown deepened, then he began sputtering nonsense words and gesturing inarticulately. This was Jenna's cue to excuse herself and calm him down. As she took his hand and lead him upstairs to explain what she'd discussed with Vega and Beezlebub, the former barked at the sleeping archangels, "Hey, Gabe! Guess whose gonna be spendin' the next ten years sullying the temple of his celestial body with gross matter!"


	29. In which everyone goes home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Sexual content (not the physical act itself, but very steamy moments leading up to the implied act including erotic language, reference to sex organs (erection), lots of lust and passion). Also brief reference to the concept of rape/sexual assault, very short, nothing specific

"Oh my God, Satan and Somebody!" exclaimed Crowley, leaning forward in the old maroon armchair and smacking his forehead with an open palm. "I really am an idiot!"

"Mmm," agreed Jenna nonchalantly without looking up from her Jane Austen, lying sideways on the nearby bed. They were in her room at Vega's mansion, everything packed, awaiting the last 12 minutes until her Evolution was officially over and they could return to Earth. "Why specifically, though?"

"I haven't even wished you a 'Happy Birthday' yet!" Crowley confessed bitterly, as if he'd committed some terrible atrocity like murder or tax evasion. 

Jenna looked up at him with surprise, set her book down thoughtfully, rolled over onto her back and stared at the top of her canopy with a slight frown. "Wow, I totally forgot it was my birthday," she muttered, then chuckled. "That's so weird..."

"Oh, don't you even! Don't you _even!_ " he hissed so angrily and dramatically at Jenna it was hard for her not to smile. He then stood up and paced anxiously from wall to wall, ringing his hands anxiously. "You'd _never_ forget your birthday, who the hell forgets their damn birthday?!" he muttered in frustration, glaring at the floor as though it was it's fault. "I know how important it is to you, I'm not stupid--"

"I thought you just said you were an idiot," Jenna mused, sitting up on the bed and watching him. 

"Soon as we get home, we are going to Disneyland!" declared Crowley, glaring at pointing a long finger at her threateningly as if she'd try to stop him. "We are staying for at least a month, one week in each hotel--"

"There's only three hotels," she pointed out. 

"Don't interrupt! Six weeks then," he amended his proposal, walking up to her with an agitated finger still raised. "Two weeks at each--no! Wait, that's stupid, here's what we're gonna do." Crowley grinned demonically and placed his hands on her shoulders, bending down so his eyes were level with hers. Jenna stared back placidly and waited for him to run out of steam. "You, my darling, are going to live as long as you like in the Disneyland park itself!" 

Jenna blinked. "I was not expecting that," she admitted. 

Crowley groaned in exasperation. "In the castle or above the pirate ride, I mean," he explained in a slightly whiny voice, upset she didn't understand right away. "Haven't you always wanted to stay there?"

Jenna blinked again. "Crowley, Disneyland is closed."

Crowley frowned. "What?! Come off it, you're--"

"We're in the middle of a global pandemic, you sweet, sweet, stupid idiot," she explained, smiling gently and placing a hand on his cheek. 

Crowley blinked. "Oh yeah. Covid something."

Jenna nodded patiently. "Yeah. Covid something. 

Crowley removed his hands from her shoulders, straightened up, considered the situation thoughtfully for a few moments and then sat next to her on the bed. "I totally forgot about the pandemic," he admitted incredulously. "That's so weird..."

Jenna giggled. "Maybe now you can understand how, with everything going on, it is perfectly understandable why we forgot that November 21st, in addition to being the day during which I would officially transform into a full supernatural being--and/or be destroyed by our now quite mutual enemies during the process--was also the day I celebrate my birth," she suggested, raising her eyebrows and grinning. 

Crowley glanced at her, rolled his eyes and grumbled, "I guess."

The Celestern hugged him and rested her head on his right shoulder. "It's okay, Beevis. I've got millions of birthdays to come that you haven't screwed up yet, so take heart."

Crowley snorted, embraced her back and kissed the top of her head affectionately. "I love you."

"So you say," replied Jenna slyly after a pause, smirking into his glinting golden irises, "yet you _still_ haven't wished me a "Happy Birthday," demon, and you've only got--" she checked her phone "--four more minutes."

Crowley raised his eyebrows, then in one swift fluid motion raised both him and her off the bed, placed his hands on her upper and lower back and dipped her low. Jenna gasped and held on to his strong shoulders tightly, staring into his beautiful serpentine eyes.

"Happy birthday, my wondrous love," he whispered tenderly, moving a hand up to cradle the back of her head gently before kissing her passionately on the lips. 

If anyone were to ask Jenna what her most memorable birthday was after today, she would reply her 25th, but only because the last three minutes and 52 seconds were spent in an angel's heavenly embrace. 

About 15 minutes later, Vega and Aziraphale knocked and entered Jenna's room so the former could bid the trio a fond farewell and remind them to keep her updated on Jenna's progress. After this tearful goodbye, during which Vega shoved several more books on Celesterns into Jenna's arms, the trio promptly miracled themselves back to Earth and their respective dwellings with no hassles whatsoever; Jenna didn't feel the least bit nauseated, thank Somebody. 

Upon materializing in Crowley's flat, Jenna and the demon collapsed onto his sofa, turned off their phones and promptly fell asleep. Jenna curled up next to Crowley in the fetal position with her head in his lap, clutching and burrowing her face into a plushy white pillow, as the latter snored softly in a slumped sitting position, head tilted back and right hand rested on her shoulder protectively. They remained so from November 22 at 12:38am until November 25 at 8:36am, at which point an unfortunate salesperson dared call Crowley's Ansaphone and left a cheery message informing him that he was eligible for compensation from the recent car accident he had suffered faultlessly. 

Thankfully for the salesperson, who shall remain nameless, Crowley was too out of it to register what had awoken him until the machine beeped to signal the caller had hung up. He was then too distracted by the beautiful woman stirring on his lap to care about anything else. As Jenna rolled onto her back and blinked her beautiful oceanic eyes open, he gazed down at her with such love and adoration, it should have been illegal. 

"Good morning, love," he crooned softly, brushing his fingertips across her slightly pink cheeks delicately. 

Jenna smiled sweetly and tiredly. "Mmmm, good morning to you too," she replied, closing her eyes and leaning in to his hand now fully cupping her right cheek. 

"How do you feel?" he asked eagerly. 

"Actually, pretty good," she mused, stretching her arms and legs a bit. "That was the best sleep I've ever had, how long was I out?"

Crowley glanced at his watch. "Almost 2 and a half days. And that goes for both of us."

Jenna groaned, then put the pillow over her face. "I can't believe I nearly slept for three days," she moaned adorably. Crowley chuckled and removed the pillow. "Hey, come on. That's nothing. I slept through most of the 19th century, remember?" he smirked.

Jenna scoffed and waved his words aside dismisively. "Yeah, that's you though. I have standards, and sleeping for 60 hours isn't gonna cut it."

Crowley cackled uproariously, so much so that Jenna started giggling as well, until they were both just staring at each other intently. 

"Are you rested?" Jenna inquired, brushing some hair behind his ear. 

"Oh yes," replied Crowley, smiling affectionately and stroking her hair as well. "That was by far the most pleasant sleep I have ever experienced as well, my love."

Jenna felt her body tingle with pleasure and excitement in unfamiliar areas. As Crowley spoke, his eyes seemed to grow darker, smoldering with passion and desire, and she wanted to drown in them. Her breath and heart rate quickened as she raised herself up to meet Crowley's face. Their noses brushed together, and his hot breath seemed as irregular as her own. 

"Oh, Jenna..." he exhaled, letting their lips barely touch before entering her mouth greedily and losing himself in her sweet taste. Jenna moaned with electrifying pleasure as his tongue did strange and wonderful things with hers, guiding it in a kind of tango. Without breaking contact, she tried to maneuver onto his lap by pushing her feet against the side of the couch; when this didn't work, Crowley's hands guided her waist so that she was sitting on his lap and groaned loudly when she deepened their kiss in thanks. 

Jenna very reluctantly broke the kiss to catch her breath, which gave the demon an opportunity to explore her jawline, earlobe and exquisitely long neck. "Oh, Crowley," she moaned softly as he nipped and suckled her sensitive skin, whispering sweet praises and blessings to her in what she suspected was Enochian. 

"That feels so good--yes, right there, like that--Oh! Ohmygod thank you Crowley--"

Crowley growled deep in his throat as Jenna ran her fingers through his long fiery mane and moaned so deliciously. He'd been too exhausted to pay her Celesternal aura much heed (beyond acknowledging a slightly less human quality about her essence during the final hour of her Evolution) until now, when the full force of her supernatural scent's "intoxicating blend of sensual desire and angelic innocence" nearly pushed the demon over the edge into ecstacy 

Jenna then cried out in what seemed like alarm, which cleared Crowley's head enough for him to notice that his member was fully erect and directly under her lap. Burning with shame, he lifted her off him, stood up and quickly walked away until he was facing the opposite wall, head bowed and arm pushing against the gray paint. 

"Crowley," panted Jenna, staring at him in confusion. "What--what happened?"

"Nothing," he said roughly, face still scarlet with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, things--I know you don't--things just got out of hand--"

Jenna's lower lip trembled. "I don't--you mean--you mean you don't want to be intimate with me?" 

Crowley forgot about his reason for turning away from Jenna and whipped around so fast he almost fell over. His heart broke upon seeing tears falling down his beloved's gorgeous face, still slightly flushed from kissed him only moments before. 

"Of _course_ I do!" he hissed vehemently, striding forward and kneeling before her like a serf before a queen. His eyes desperately searched hers for any sign that she could possibly forgive him. "I want you more than anything--I've fantasized about--you're the only one--ugh!" He gave up and rested his face on her knees. Jenna stroked his hair gently until he lifted his face again. "I meant that I was going to fast for you," he explained, his eyes still fearful but less wild with worry. "I meant, I was sorry for hurting and scaring you by--I only want to go at your speed, love," he emphasized, gripping both her hands tightly with his own. "Please forgive me."

Jenna shook her head, tears of sorrow now tears of joy. "I'm the one who's sorry," she smiled sadly. "You were just respecting my wishes, which I still haven't told you have completely changed--thank you for respecting my boundaries, my guardian angel," she whispered, kissing his nose sweetly. 

Crowley blushed and looked down. After a few moments, he frowned and raised his face to meet hers again, eyes wide with shock. "Wait, 'completely changed?'" he repeated, hardly daring to believe his ears. "You don't mean--you couldn't possibly--"

"Anthony J. Crowley," stated Jenna in a clear, sober tone, smiling mildly at her demon's panicked stuttering, "in the spirit of offering unequivocal and enthusiastic consent, I want it on the record that I very much want to have sex with you right now, and really as often as possible, for the rest of our immortal lives." 

Crowley frowned at her, blinked twice, then collapsed on the carpet in a long, black and red reptilian mess. 

Jenna tried not to laugh, but the sight of his adorable snake head lifting up, looking around and then hissing what she now understood to be curses in Parseltongue was too hilarious. 

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't meant to overwhelm you," she giggled, extending a hand toward the irate reptile, who stopped hissing but refused to meet her gaze. "I don't care that you transformed, I think it's very sweet--"

"Ssssssssssssssstupid," hissed Crowley viscously under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the carpet. "Weak. You dessssssserve better--"

"Hey," Jenna interrupted him sternly. "Look at me, please." Crowley's golden eyes, full of shame and shyness, met hers. Jenna gently cupped his reptilian head and snout in her hands and said kindly but firmly, "Don't talk about my demon like that. He may be an idiot, but he is the cleverest, bravest, strongest, most wonderful being I have ever met." She grinned at Crowley, who looked down bashfully. "And I'll be the judge of what I do and don't deserve, if that's quite alright with you," she added haughtily, releasing the snake and leaning back against the couch cushions with her nose raised slightly. Crowley hissed his snaky laugh and nodded in agreement. 

"Of courssssssssse," he replied. "Sssssssssssssorry, jussssssssst a ssssssssssec." Crowley slithered onto the couch next to Jenna, then slowly changed back into his human form. 

"Hey," he waved at her, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry about that. Um," he began, biting his lip and staring at his hands. "So, thank you for being so honest with me, love. I really appreciate your, uh, what's the phrase....open communication." He glanced at her watching him intently. "As you already know, I'm not the best communicator."

Jenna frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked, taking his hand. "You're so great about talking to me! You've shared so much about your life--"

"Yeah, the _easy_ stuff," he scoffed, squeezing her hands and looking away again. "Funny stories, adventures, clever inventions--not my time in Heaven, or anything about Falling, or all the fights Angel and I had--"

"It's okay Crowley," assured Jenna, moving closer to him so she could rub his back gently and hug him from the side. "I'm the same! I mean, you know most of my stuff already, but I've never told you my worst OCD fears, or that I can't take a sip of alcohol without feeling so guilty I vomit, or how I felt when my dad remarried--my point is, I get how hard it is, but just by trying, we're doing better than we were before." 

Crowley nodded, slipping his long left arm around her shoulder and drawing her closer. "You're doing great, love," he whispered into her hair, which, like the rest of her, smelled lustfully irresistible yet God-like in its purity. 

"So are you," she replied, burrowing into his chest as both his arms encircled her. 

They sat still for a moment, then Crowley took a deep, shuddering breath and stated, "I was there, you know--in your college courtyard. With you. The night your aunt called about your dad getting married again."

Jenna looked up at him, surprised. "That was you?" she asked, eyes bright and eyebrows raised. "It didn't look like you, but after we met--when I looked back on it, I noticed how similar your energies felt--"

"Does that bother you?" he asked nervously. Jenna shook her head and smiled. "No, of course not. You're my guardian angel--of course you comforted me on such a hard night."

Crowley blinked, then cupped her face gently with his hands. "That's the night I realized I was in love with you," he confessed, his golden eyes full of adoration and amazement. "It took me a long time to accept that it wasn't just--that there wasn't something _wrong_ with me. After all, I'd known you since you were a child! But," he continued, looking up, "She helped me see it was okay. That I could love my little friend much differently than the beautiful woman in the courtyard. And indeed, to me you are two different people, with very similar qualities." 

Crowley looked back into Jenna's eyes and took another deep breath "I am so in love with you it hurts every part of me. I have wanted you since that night, so desperately I feared the pain would discorporate me. I had never experience lust myself before, and was so---so terrified, yet so c _ertain_ I would go insane and hurt you, that I just--" He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. 

Jenna placed a soft hand on his warm cheek. "That wouldn't have ever happened, my darling," she crooned, stroking his face gently. "Lust doesn't cause people to do that--hatred, fear, desire for power, that's what leads people to violate others. You're too full of nice, soft things for there to be any room for malice." She snuggled up against him again, and to her surprise he embraced her tightly. 

"Oh Jenna," he sighed, "Not a moment goes by that I don't yearn for your body against mine--I want to pleasure you in every way, make you feel worshipped and adored like the goddess you are--lie with you the way God intended, as an expression of pure and faithful love--"

"Oh Crowley," hissed Jenna, clutching his shoulders as he began devouring her soft neck again. "Take me. Please. Take me now, in your room. Please," she begged as her body throbbed for his.

Wordlessly, the demon gently picked her up bridal-style and carried her swiftly to his dark and brooding chambers, which had never known such a light as his beloved before. 


	30. In which Crowley and Jenna awaken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussions of previous sexual encounter, consent, comfort levels, etc. It was consensual and enjoyable for both characters, so no trauma; nudity stated but not described

Jenna stirred as a ponderous lorry honked its annoying horn on the street outside Crowley's apartment. She opened her eyes, expecting to see light streaming through her sheer lavender curtains covering the expansive window overlooking the small park outside her room, but instead saw only varying degrees of darkness: slate gray walls and heavy, thick obsidian blackout curtains hanging from a bar close to the ceiling that gave her no accurate indication of what time it was. Frowning and squinting at the curtains, she tried to figure out where she was and why when her slowly awaking brain realized with an electric shock that she was completely unclothed under the thin, onyx silk sheets. 

Jenna's suddenly freezing body tensed under the sheets as her fight and flight instincts thumb-wrestled over who would save her from this predicament, when she felt something ("Someone! A strange man!!!!!!!! Oh my fucking GOD!!!" screamed her sympathetic nervous system) shift slightly on the other side of the bed. Flight was just preparing to pin down Fight's thumb victoriously when the something sighed and mumbled in its sleep. 

Every clenched muscle in the Celestern's form immediately relaxed as she sighed and smiled with relief upon realizing it was Crowley, and remembering where she was and why. Her Fight and Flight stood down reluctantly, only to be instantly replaced by Embarrassment and Insecurity which made her cheeks hot and red with their worries and comments. Upon realizing that listening to these particular voices was more detrimental than helpful, Jenna thanked them for their input, assured them she'd consider it and rolled over gingerly to distract herself with Crowley's angelic sleeping face. 

He looks like a god, she sighed mentally, gazing at the demon as he slept peacefully on his back, sheets pulled up to his chest and one arm over his head. After trying not to look, Jenna gave up and allowed herself to marvel at his muscular shoulders and chest, lean but very powerful. Crowley's red locks surrounded his perfect features like a fiery halo and his long black eyelashes cast shadows down his high cheekbones. Jenna longed to reach out and trace his profile, as she often did when he rested on the couch or gazed back at her lovingly, but couldn't bear to wake him. 

Crowley frowned in his sleep adorably and stirred again, shifting just slightly and parting his full lips less than a centimeter. Jenna's heart rate increased as she internally whimpered, and before she knew it her right cheek was on his warm chest, right over his steady heart beat. She quickly noticed that he was nude as well, which didn't bother so much as excite her; thankfully, Embarrassment and Insecurity didn't say much when she pressed her bare torso and legs against his, too much in shock were they at their ward's flippant behavior. 

The Celestern sighed contentedly as the demon continued to sleep, savoring his natural musk and body heat. After a few moments, Crowley moved again, a bit more this time, and his right arm fell over her left. At this, his body jolted slightly and she felt him inhale sharply, as though in shock. She cringed, afraid she'd frightened him, and hoped he'd go back to sleep. 

Instead, Crowley blinked his eyes blearily, glanced down at his left and saw the most glorious sight in the universe, more divine than his angelic or demonic eyes had ever witnessed: Jenna Kingsley, the gorgeous, powerful, intelligent, kind, wonderful being he loved more than anything, laying peacefully next to him, her warm breath tickling his chest as her soft cheek and silky hair rested there, one elegant, creamy hand caressing his collarbone. Jenna's intoxicating and dichotomously arousing aura surrounded them, as did a strange feeling of love and belonging such as he had only felt with the angel. 

The demon could sense she was wide awake, and his heart beat quickened as he wondered what to say and do. Jenna listened to it do so until she giggled, kissed his chest and said softly, "I guess we're both awake now, huh? Good morning, sweetheart."

Crowley exhaled with relief and his blood pressure decreased upon hearing and sensing her relaxation. He gently kissed the top of her head and traced lines on her alabaster arm, murmuring, "Good morning, love" in such a low, seductive voice Jenna closed her eyes and sighed. 

"How did you sleep?" she asked, drawing little circles on his chest with her index finger. 

Crowley gulped nervously. "Oh, fine. Just fine. Um, you?"

"Same."

They were silent for a bit, until Crowley cleared his throat, clenched the hand on Jenna's arm into a loose fist and stammered very anxiously, "So, I, um--well, we should probably, um--that is to say, er--"

"It was wonderful for me," breathed Jenna simply, letting her hand rest as well though keeping it open on the demon's soft skin. "Took me a second to remember where I was, but once I heard you next to me--I felt so safe, and immediately remembered everything." She looked up at Crowley, blue-green eyes wide and sparkling. "You were so kind, and gentle, and sweet--I'm sorry, I know you don't like those words--"

"Well--" Crowley said dismissively, shrugging jerkily and looking up nervously, his heart racing again as he listened to her with bated breath. 

"--you were also very strong, and sexy, and powerful," she added earnestly, stroking up his chest and neck. The demon moaned involuntarily and grabbed her hand, now gently cupping his right cheek, with his and kissed the palm. "It was--well, just really perfect." Jenna finished in a small voice, suddenly embarrassed by her frank words and the burning in her sex. 

Crowley held her hand to his chest and took a few deep breaths, allowing his desire to diminish so he could respond properly. When he felt clearer-headed, he managed to gasp, "I'm just glad it wasn't--that I didn't--I mean, I know it had to have been painful, but--"

"Just....a brief instant," she admitted, suddenly very conscious of their naked bodies so close together. "Like I said at the time. You--thank you for checking in with me so much. That was--it helped me stay in touch with...things."

"I---it--well, yeah. That's what I'm supposed to do. Check in, I mean."

"Yeah. We both are, I guess. Oh! Um, did I check in with you enough, or--"

Crowley frowned down at her, shocked she would even think to ask, his mind not even having considered anything but her comfort. "Um, y-yeah. Yeah, sure! You're--you were great." He cleared his throat and looked away awkwardly.

"D-did you feel, um, _supported_ ," continued Jenna, feeling guilty for not asking sooner, "and, um, _safe_?"

Crowley felt himself burn and go bright red all over, before replying very tensely, praying the subject would soon change, "It--yes. Yes. All that was--you were--yes."

"Okay, good," sighed Jenna in relief, relaxing onto his chest again. They remained like that for a few seconds, until Crowley blurted out, "A-and I want to, of course!"

"Hmm?" Jenna's brow furrowed up at him in confusion. "Sorry, what do you mean?"

"Well, coz I was just like, 'That's what I'm supposed to do,'" he repeated his words in a deep, mocking, very inaccurate tone, "like it's some chore, or something--it's not!" he assured her hastily, serpentine eyes panicked but still adorable. "I wanted to! That's--that's the only way I would every want--"

"I know," she reassured him emphatically, kissing his chest again and grinning. "You're fine, Crowley. I felt 200% safe, comfortable, loved, adored and happy. It was perfect."

"Well, good," Crowley replied firmly, but with still very uncertain eyes. Jenna sighed, stroked the skin around his eyes and said as gently as possible, "This is coming from someone who feels anxious constantly, but is there anything I can do to help you relax, honey? Your energy is so terrified."

Crowley sighed heavily, gazing down at her lovingly and stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, love" he replied softly. "I'll try to calm down. I was just so worried-- I wanted everything to be perfect for you," he muttered, very intimately and sincerely. His golden eyes were now wide and desperate, searching hers for signs that he'd screwed everything up. 

"It was. Better than perfect, actually" she corrected herself thoughtfully, stroking his cheek again, "because it was real."

Crowley nodded as tears filled his eyes. He was too choked up to say anymore, so he just stared up at his black canopy and tried not to cry.

"Um," Jenna began nervously, fidgeting under the covers. "How was it for, um, you?" she asked, closing her eyes tightly and simultaneously dreading yet unable not to hear the answer. 

Crowley didn't respond immediately, for different reasons. At first, it was because he couldn't think of the right words. Then, when he realized it had been fucking _forever_ since she'd asked and he'd literally said _nothing_ like a _shithead douchebag_ , not even a sputter, his Freeze response lost it's mind and pushed the Panic button, preventing him from vocalizing anything. His eyes widened in terror as the seconds ticked by and he continued not to say anything, until he gritted his teeth, mustered all his demonic strength and growled, "Grrrgl--Fuck this bloody blasted corporation!"

Jenna, who was relatively fine as it had only been about ten seconds and assumed he was thoughtfully considering a very serious query, burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" she gasped, eyes dancing with laughter as she stared up at him in wonder. 

"Fucking Manchester, my voice stopped working!" he explained, sitting up slightly, serpentine eyes still wide in alarm. "I-well, okay, at first it was me, I couldn't think of words--like, good human words I mean--but then, it's like--" he continued, gesturing frantically and narrowing his gaze as he described his actually quite commonplace biological phenomenon, "--my body went on lockdown or something! I'm so sorry love, I'm such a tosser! How long did I--"

"Exactly 9.82 seconds," she guesstimated. Then, she grinned demonically and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "How could you have been corporated for over 6 millennia and never experienced stage fright before?"

Crowley blinked, settled back down into the bed and mumbled, "Well, to be fair, no one's ever asked me your earlier question before..."

Jenna giggled. "That is fair. Free pass on that one."

Crowley grinned affectionately at her and lovingly smoothed her hair. "Thanks. And to actually answer said question like a decent human--demon--being--thing--you know what I mean," he added, looking into her oceanic eyes very seriously and soberly. "There really are no human words--or animal, nature, etc--words to describe how it was for--um, well, anyway, my point is--I don't know if this'll make any sense to you," he confessed, sitting up so that he was cross legged but still decent from the waist down, "but I'm gonna try and explain, 'kay?"

Jenna nodded, sitting up too but keeping herself covered by holding the covers above her chest. She turned toward him and watched him intently, used to and really quite enamored with his unique, imaginative way of explaining things by now. 

"Right," began Crowley, holding up his hands so Jenna could see them. "So, you know I worked in the Galactic Dept. up in Heaven, right? Nebulas, galaxies, solar systems, etc?"

Jenna grinned and nodded. 

"So, there's a certain process to creating a star," he explained, using his demonic magic to show her said process in his hands. "You've got your hydrogen and your helium--" a taupe-colored gaseous substance mingled with a swamp green one between his palms "--which fuse together--" there was a tiny explosion as said elements fused "--then you add a bit of Divinity--" he sprinkled what looked like white fairy dust over the swirling ball of energy, which made it glow a brilliant blue "--and send it up into the sky," Crowley concluded, guiding the star upwards until it settled amongst his black canopy, looking more like Neptune up close. "Well, that's not how it's--that's shit, really, but you get the idea."

Jenna, who was enraptured by Crowley's demonstration, shook her head and replied, gazing upwards at the planet-like "star," "No, it's perfect--and yes, I do get it. I can't believe you used to do that, Crow!"

The demon shrugged, closed his eyes and tilted his head in a false appearance of modesty, reveling in her adoration of his celestial skills. "It's nothing, really--I'll teach you how to sometime, if you want--"

"Really?!" Jenna cried, eyes sparkling brighter than any stars he'd ever seen or created as her head snapped back down to stare at him in shock. "Oh my God, that would be the best thing ever!!"

Crowley smiled crookedly at her excitement. He was really the only angel passionate about astronomy, even Aziraphale only showed a passing interest in the subject, and he'd often wondered if his fervent obsession with cultivating the universe contributed to his Fall. However, seeing Jenna's shared reverence for and eagerness to learn more about sculpting galaxies made it all seem less sinful, less demonic...more normal, if not good and pure. 

Which reminded him...

Crowley cleared his throat awkwardly, took Jenna's hand that wasn't holding the black sheet over her and stammered, brilliant eyes looking into hers nervously, "Um, anyway, to answer your long-ago asked query: being with you like that, I mean I guess in any way really, but especially that, um, _intimately_ \--" he said the last word so quietly Jenna could barely hear, looking away and blushing, but also with such reverence that her heart filled with unconditional love for her soulmate "--is like how it felt being an angel up there, creating the stars, sending them up and watching them twinkle, make friends, find their way--building the nebulas, choosing the colors--I hadn't felt anything like that until this morning, when we were together," he admitted in a pained voice, molten golden eyes boring into hers and smoldering darkly. "It was--it was like a miracle, really. Like being in Heaven again, only the _good_ Heaven, before everything went to Hell. Literally," he chuckled, mirthlessly. 

Tears ran freely down Jenna's cheeks as she released the silk sheet, threw herself onto Crowley and kissed him passionately, unable to bear his sadness and longing to return to Heaven with him now. Crowley instantly embraced her exquisite figure and fell back onto the soft bed, allowing her to take him there.


	31. In which Jenna gets a present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Thanks for reading my story, I think this is gonna be the last chapter before the epilogue. However, I'm seriously considering doing a sequel, "Ineffably Yours," further chronicling Jenna Kingsley's adventures with Crowley and Aziraphale, as well as more FTF time with Vega and other Bureaucratic beings. What would you like to see in a sequel? 
> 
> Enjoy and please leave feedback!

"Okay, I think I know what I want to do," said Jenna with a very serious expression, looking up over her steaming mug of Aziraphale's delectable hot chocolate at Crowley and the angel. Both raised their eyebrows and leaned forward eagerly. 

Jenna took a sip of cocoa, closing her eyes to savor the impossibly rich and perfectly sweet taste before carefully setting her signature mug (Snoopy sleeping on his doghouse/Flying Sopwith Camel) on an antique coaster amongst the piles of books and papers cluttering Aziraphale's tiny kitchen table. "I'm gonna visit home for two weeks, tell Melissa everything--well, _almost_ everything," she amended, looking up thoughtfully. "Can't tell her anyone's names or anything, mostly just the stuff about me--anyway, after that," she continued, looking back at her supernatural friends, "I'm saying goodbye and moving here, to London."

Aziraphale exclaimed excitedly, "Oh my dear Miss Kingsley, I'm so delighted you'll be joining us here! I was so hoping you would, though not as much as Crowley--" he admitted, with a smile and head tilt to his friend, who glared at and motioned for him to stop speaking. 

Crowley then turned to Jenna with worriedly and asked, "Are you sure, love? I told you I'd move anywhere you were, if you wanted me to."

"I know," Jenna chirped, smiling cheerfully. "I thought about it, and it would have been nice, but I'd rather live here.

Crowley frowned at Jenna and sputtered, "But--y-you can't--you--you bloody love California!" he exclaimed eloquently. "You've lived there your whole life, love the ocean, weather's a dream--a-and what about your friends?" he cried. "Dana, Kat, Melissa--oh, the museum! The CHILDREN!" he almost yelled, gesturing dramatically with wide eyes. "Think of the CHILDREN!"

Jenna laughed and stretched her left hand across the table to embrace the demon's. "Yes, I love California," she conceded, smiling at him sweetly as he held her held and looked at her uncertainly. "And the ocean. And the weather. And my friends. And yes, of _course_ the children. But," she added releasing his hand to gesture out the nearby window, "Great Britain's got an ocean!"

"Yes, the _Atlantic,_ " added Aziraphale helpfully. Crowley scowled at him. 

"And much more interesting weather than--"

"Oh don't _even_ about the weather!" interrupted the demon sharply. "It's cloudy, gloomy and boring as fuck. Just as I intended when I cursed it."

"One man's curse is another man's--" began Aziraphale, holding up a wise finger. 

" _Shut it!_ " hissed Crowley murderously. The angel complied, folding his hands neatly in his lap and avoiding the demon's piercing gaze.

"Well, weather aside," continued Jenna, not to be deterred, "I have two of the best friends I will ever meet in my soon to be very long lifetime! An incredibly courageous, strong, kind, wonderful, clever, witty, caring, forgiving and compassionate angel--" she gestured at Aziraphale, who beamed and blushed light pink "--and a creative, genius, hilarious, kind, generous, brave, selfless, stylish and amazing demon," she added, her eyes softening as she gazed lovingly at Crowley. "Plus, I can keep in touch with and visit Dana, Kat, Mel, everyone as much as I want, giving my newfound Transportation skills.

Crowley, who was still frowning with his arms and legs crossed, bit his lower lip nervously. "I mean, I guess that's true--" he admitted reluctantly. "But you can also say the same about visiting Angel--and _I'll_ be with you wherever--"

"Shush," interrupted Jenna loftily. "Anyway, children: yes, I'll miss interacting with them and working at the museum in general, but honestly, I really want to focus on my writing right now, especially since--well, since I can miracle money whenever I need it," she mumbled, glancing up at Aziraphale, shame-faced. "I know you must not approve of that, Zira--"

"Oh he can't talk," Crowley interjected just as Aziraphale opened his mouth, shaking his head and jerking a thumb at the rather annoyed angel. "How do you think he keeps this place afloat without ever selling a damn book?!"

"I-I resent the implication--" began Aziraphale indignantly. 

"Oh, it's certainly not an implication, I've got the memories to prove it." Crowley winked at Jenna, who rolled her eyes. "Anyway, well," he continued, still looking doubtful but a bit more amiable to her proposal, "if you're sure--I mean, I just want you to be happy--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jenna waved her hand dismissively. "And you say you're not nice--"

"I'm not! I'm--demanding! Insisting others be happy when it's none of my business, really!"

"Right, Crow. Right."

Crowley glared at Aziraphale again as the latter chortled at his expense. 

"Besides," Jenna added thoughtfully, sipping her cocoa again, "I can't possibly take you away from Zira!"

Aziraphale smiled paternally. "I appreciate that my dear, but it's YOUR happiness that you must consider, not mine." 

"And I am," she assured the angel, looking deep into his blue eyes so that he could search her for any signs of dishonesty. "I promise. I want to live near you almost as much as Crowley does." She jerked her thumb at the demon, who was currently glaring at the angel as if he had pressured her somehow. 

"All evidence to the contrary," Jenna chuckled to Aziraphale indulgently, then narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend. "Crow! Stop staring at Zira like he sang hymns to your plants! I'm not staying cuz of him, or even cuz of _you_! I _genuinely want_ to live here now!" 

She offered her left hand to him again, which he took, watching her carefully with narrowed eyes before responding, "Well, if you're sure...."

"I am. Oh, and not to be imposing," she added, cringing slightly, "but I was planning on moving in with you. That is, if your offer still stands for me to _officially_ move in as your girlfriend, as opposed to an illegal Celestern pursued by malevolent, otherwordly forces."

Crowley's doubt and upset seemed to vanish as he smiled adoringly at his beloved. "You could move in as a fire-breathing, gun-wielding, drug-addicted hippopotamus and I wouldn't give a damn, love," he replied with very lovey-dovey eyes. "As long as it's you, the offer will stand for all eternity."

"Awwwwww," gushed Jenna, resting her head on her arm and gazing up at Crowley with the adorable puppy dog expression Aziraphale taught her. "Look at you, being all sweet and overdramatic and hyperbolic--"

"It's not hyperbolic if it's true!" Crowley pointed out with a demonic grin. 

Jenna smiled wryly and pointed at her shirt. "And it's not true if my stomach hurts, demon."

Crowley frowned and rolled his eyes as Aziraphale giggled into his plump white hand. "Only coz of the fire thing though," he mumbled, glancing up guiltily at Jenna. "I don't care about the rest--"

Jenna laughed, got up, walked over to her demon and sat in his lap, giving him a big, reassuring hug which he melted into willingly. "I know, hon. I'm sorry, just teasing. It's enough to know that I could spontaneously become a huge, vicious and not the most _conventionally_ attractive mammal and you'd still want to live with me."

"Uh, yeah! Doi!" Crowley replied very eloquently, pulling away and smirking at her. "It'd be great! You'd eat all the bad plants, I'd keep you in a big tank and watch you swim around--Oh, you know what?" he exclaimed excitedly, demonic eyes glinting madly. "Here's a thought--I'll just transform too! We'll be hippos together!" he announced happily, throwing his arms in the air.

Jenna cringed and narrowed her eyes. "C-can you actually do that though? Transform into something besides a snake?"

Crowley responded with a definite "Yes!" while Aziraphale scoffed "No" behind them. Crowley leaned around his girlfriend, hugged her possessively to him and glared at his best friend. 

"Have you or have you not seen me in not one, not three, but ten! TEN! A whopping TEN different animal forms _besides_ the serpent throughout the 6,000 bloody years we've known each other?!" he demanded of the angel, who peered at him over his tiny useless spectacles in amusement, sporting his "just enough of a bastard" grin.

Aziraphale laughed airily. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry my dear boy," he simpered, waving aside Crowley's concerns, his crystalline azure eyes twinkling. "I see the confusion. Yes, I have seen you in ten different animal corporations, not including your favored reptilian one."

"Thank you," replied Crowley, feeling better now that Aziraphale conceded the point and Jenna was grooming him affectionately. 

"You see," continued the angel, his features at this moment far more demonic than his best friend's, "I was under the impression that Miss Kingsley was asking, "Are you, Anthony J. Crowley, able to, _independently_ and _electively_ , transform into--"

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Crowley threw back, glaring around Jenna at the smug angel again. Jenna sighed, removed her hands from her boyfriends lush hair and got off his lap to avoid the impending melee. "That I couldn't have become that black panther if I wanted to?! If I wasn't maybe a _teensy_ bit tired from saving SOMEone's ass YET AGAIN from those poachers--"

"Oh!, So, scaring the hell out of those bastards by flashing them your true form used up _soooo_ much demonic energy," Aziraphale retorted sarcastically, leaning forward and no longer smiling, "that you were unable to morph into the large carnivorous feline you otherwise most _definitely_ would have been able to--"

"YOU WEREN'T THERE WHEN I BECAME THE ELEPHANT!" yelled Crowley, standing and bearing down aggressively on the angel, "OR THE GRIZZLY! YOU GOT THERE AFTER THE FACT, DIDN'T YOU!"

"Don't you DARE take THAT tone with ME, you despic--" hissed Aziraphale, slowly rising and glaring daggers at the demon. 

" _DIDN'T YOU?!_ YEAH, _THAAAAAAT'S_ RIGHT! DIDN'T _NEED_ YOUR HELP THEN, DID I, _PRINCCCCCCCCCCIPALITY?_!"Crowley hissed his friend's former title in a screechy, mocking tone that made Aziraphale gasp. 

Jenna, who had taken her cocoa and gone to the angel's living room, sighed in exasperation and turned another page of "The Sun Also Rises."

"Well then," replied Aziraphale primly, sunset red with rage, "then it must have been some OTHER princccccccipality," he hissed back at Crowley, which wiped the triumphant smirk off the latter's smug face, "who had to TRANSFORM YOU BACK BEFORE THE LOCAL AUTHORITIES CAPTURED AND PUT YOU IN A ZOO BOTH TIMES!"

Crowley gasped and growled at the angel. "You bastard, you swore on your halo never to-"

"And why exactly was that, _Crowley_?" hissed Aziraphale in a much lower voice. "Could it possibly have been because _you hadn't in fact meant to morph into those particular beasts, or really anything at all?!"_

"I swear on my--fuck why don't I have horns--goddamn it I'm just gonna kill you angel--"

"HEY! DON'T MAKE ME USE THE LIGHT AND DARK ON Y'ALL!" threatened Jenna from the living room, glaring over her left shoulder at the bickering comrades, who froze (Crowley lunged forward, hands inches from the angel's throat, and Aziraphale leaning away with a miracled stuffed mongoose he was seconds away from brandishing in the former's face) and stared at the Celestern in horror.

"I'll do it, don't think I won't!" she reiterated, eyes flashing red momentarily. Quickly, Jenna snapped her book shut, stood up and faced the cowering man-shaped beings, hands on her hips and eyes still far from their normal blue-green. "Crowley, if you don't fess up and admit that you suck as Transforming into anything but a serpent--"

"Hey!"

"--then I swear to Someone I'll put you in a Light Ray cage," Jenna warned. Crowley's eyes fell to the floor guiltily. 

"And you, Zira!" Jenna rounded on the angel, whose smug smirk at Crowley's expense immediately vanished. "If you don't apologize to Crow for breaking your promise and stop teasing him, I'll put YOU in a Shadow--covering--thing," she threatened awkwardly, but still effectively as Aziraphale nodded quickly, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes, of course Miss Kingsley. We really are frightfully sorry, you shouldn't have had to intervene--"

"Yeah, sorry love," said Crowley softly, glancing up at her with very apologetic yellow eyes. 

Aziraphale took a deep breath and turned toward his frenemy. "Crowley," he began very formally, "I apologize sincerely for dishonoring my oath. I shouldn't have teased you, that was very wrong." The more he spoke, the softer and more genuine his demeanor became until he was a worried mess wringing his hands and avoiding Crowley's gaze shamefully.

"'s okay, angel," mumbled Crowley, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shuffling his feet shyly, still looking down. "Sorry for being a prat about the whole thing." He took a deep breath. "You're right, anyway" he admitted reluctantly, rolling his eyes and grinning crookedly at Aziraphale in spite of himself. "I can't transmogrify for shit, thank Someone you were there to save my ass so many times."

"Well," reasoned the angel modestly, shrugging and gesturing slightly, "you really couldn't have become the panther if you hadn't any significant Transforming power-- _and_ , perhaps with a bit of study," he added encouragingly, smiling up at his friend and holding up a finger, "you could learn to _electively_ morph into the other forms!"

Crowley shrugged and murmured, "Ngk."

Jenna smiled affectionately at the scene before her. "There we go! That's much better! Now," she continued briskly, grabbing her hot chocolate mug and returning to the kitchen, "back to me. Once I'm within ten or so feet of them, I can just miracle all my belongings from Cali to Mayfield, right? Even the furniture? Or will that cause too much of a metaphysical disturbance?"

~

That evening, Crowley and Jenna were lounging on his very blue, very plush and very NOT leather sofa (which the demon had grown to love much more than his previous slippery, rather uncomfortable couch), her leaning against him as both perused their phones casually. 

"You're staying for the holidays, right?" asked Crowley, peering over his phone at Jenna's brown hair against his shoulder. "Can't miss Christmas in London, you know."

"Of course," the Celestern assured him, looking up at her demon and smiling. "There's no way I'd miss London at Christmastime, all the beautiful snow, decorations, church bells, carols.....oh! Ice skating!" she cried excitedly, twisting around to face him eagerly. "We can go ice skating!"

Crowley raised an eyebrow and smirked at her enthusiasm. "You _hate_ ice skating."

Jenna huffed and rolled her eyes. "Ok, I don't hate ice skating _itself_ , alright? I liked it well enough when we'd visit relatives in Minnesota!"

"True," conceded the demon with a slight nod. 

"What I _do_ hate is simultaneously freezing and sweating inside those little indoor rinks crammed with a million people wherein I inevitably fall and twist my ankle, too distracted by the flashing lights and blaring music to watch maneuver properly." 

Crowley grimaced. "Yeah, those are pretty bad--must admit I got a lofty pay raise for that little sweetheart--"

"Why I'm shocked," replied Jenna in a monotone, trying to keep a straight face but failing when Crowley cleared his throat and glanced at her like a guilty puppy. 

"It's fine, Crow. Anyway, are there any good skating spots nearby we could try?" she asked hopefully. 

Crowley thought for a minute. "Well, not being a skater myself, nor Aziraphale, I haven't actually scoped out the area with that in mind--oh, Tadfield!" he exclaimed, his golden eyes brightening. "There's got to be excellent ponds or lakes there for skating! I'll ask Adam--"

"Oh, the former Antichrist!!" squealed Jenna excitedly. "I'd love to meet him and his friends sometimes--if that's not weird, I don't know how close you two still are--" 

"Fairly close, usually hang out ever few months, this year being an exception," Crowley explained, leaning back onto the couch until only his head was propped up by a pillow. "Yeah, we'll all go over there together next week, you , Zira and me--Adam and the "Them"'ll be crazy bout you, not least of all cuz you're from _California, dude,_ "Crowley teased, attempting an American surfer dialect that made Jenna cringe, groan and hide her face in her hands. 

"Don't ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever do that again!" she begged, shaking her head a different direction with each "ever." 

Crowley's eye's twinkled mischievously as he pretended to pout, "Awww, come on! Not even the hang ten sign?"

Jenna removed her hands from her face, placed them on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "Not unless you want to lose that hand, brutha."

The demon laughed uproariously. "Alright, alright, you win," he gasped, wiping his eyes. "Truce." Crowley then reached his arms out for Jenna hopefully. She smiled, returned to the couch and carefully rested herself on his torso before instantly snuggling into his warm embrace. The two lovers remained blissfully unaware of the world around them for several minutes, until Crowley's eyes shot open in great alarm. 

"What's today's date?" he asked anxiously, as if the fate of the world depended on the answer. 

"Uh, the 30th," replied Jenna sleepily.

"Of November, right?"

Jenna opened her eyes, frowned and raised her face to look into his. "Yes," she replied, firmly but with great concern, like he'd asked if water was real. "It is still November. Are you feeling--"

"Great, it's technically not too late!" cried the demon, lifting her and himself off the couch hurriedly. "Come on, we only have--" Crowley glanced at his watch "--2 hours before I'm officially the worst boyfriend ever!"

Jenna just stared at him, unblinkingly, until he groaned melodramatically at her confusion, grabbed her left hand and began pulling her out of the living room. "Are you secretly growing and ingesting psychoactive plants or something?" she asked warily as they moved quickly toward his bedroom. 

"Maybe," he confessed with a straight-face, pausing outside the door and releasing Jenna's hand, "but that's neither here nor there. This--" he gestured toward the door "--is my last chance to give you a very belated birthday present. Which I just want on record stated," he added hurriedly, frowning and holding up an upset index finger, "that it would _not_ have been belated if Corporate hadn't burst in all high-and-mighty with their "Give us your phone!" and "Ligur's alive!" and "Soft traitor!" and smug little grins and--"

"I get it, honey," smiled Jenna. "Heaven and Hell screwed everything up. Completely understandable. Besides," she added, eyes twinkling, "all I just heard was, 'Jenna, you've got yet ANOTHER present behind this door from your very generous, crazy, creative, idiotic, wonderful boyfriend.'"

"Oh," said Crowley, nonplussed. "Well, good."

"Yeah, so---?" Jenna pointed to the door. "Can we go in, or--?"

"Right! Yes! Just a sec." The demon slipped into the room like a shadow and closed the door, locking it behind him with magic. Jenna rolled her eyes and grinned at his overzealousness. She then heard the same panting, heavy thudding of an object being dropped on the floor and swearing coming from his room starting a few weeks before her birthday and ending about a week before. _Cool, I get to see what the fuck that's all about!_ she thought happily. 

Crowley then opened the door, sweaty and out of breath, and gasped, "Alright, close your eyes."

Jenna complied and allowed him to take her hand and lead her into the room. He rotated her shoulders so that she was facing the wall opposite his bed, the bed probably being about 5 feet to her left. 

"Okay, you can open them now," he said nervously from a few feet behind her. 

Jenna did, and stared in wonder at the colorful masterpiece in front of her. It was a desk, rather ordinary in form in that she'd had similar ones with side shelves, little cabinets and places to set books, but unprecedented in every other aspect. The entire table was painted a haunting midnight cobalt with hints of deepest violet, making the surface appear black at first glance but upon closer examination a variety of blue and purple hues revealed themselves in mysterious ways. Tiny and very realistic stars littered the depicted night sky, as did several spiral galaxies, breathtaking nebulas and supernovas. 

"It's for your writing," Crowley explained, tentatively inching forward and anxiously peering at Jenna's face. "I mean, if you want--it can be for anything really, of course--but I figured, you know, just--something you'd use and that would--last a long time--in case--well--I didn't know if yet you wanted to stay--" he stammered, fidgeting with his grey tie and glancing nervously from her to the desk. 

"I love it," whispered his girlfriend, approaching and gently touching an exploding star with a few delicate fingers. "It's the most special present anyone has ever given me." Jenna smiled happily at Crowley with tears in her resplendent eyes. "Thank you," she sobbed, falling into his arms and hugging him tightly. "Thank you so much."

Crowley sighed with relief and joy as he embraced her as well, holding her precious head and body close to his and closing his eyes. "I'm glad you like it," he whispered near her ear. She nodded vehemently, a bit too choked up for words. "I built and sanded it by November 14, which gave me a week to paint, which I'd finished 90% of when--"

"Wait, you what?" Jenna asked, wiping her eyes and looking up at Crowley incredulously. "Y-you made this? Like, the human way?"

Crowley grinned very proudly and nodded. "Yep. Hadn't worked with furniture since the 19th century, but I figured that it's probably like riding a bike--"

"You made me a gorgeous, galaxy-themed writing desk the stupid, painstaking, imperfect human way?" Jenna's huge oceanic eyes glistened with tears as she smiled, lower lip trembling slightly, in awe and appreciation. Before Crowley could respond again, her face was buried in his shirt and she was silently crying tears of joy, of love, of grief, of disbelief, of reverence, of fear, of faith. He just held her gently, rubbed her upper back, and rocked her back and forth soothingly.

After a few minutes, Jenna giggled and her face emerged from her boyfriend cocoon. "Well," she sniffled, wiping her eyes again, "that explains all the noises coming from your room, at least."

Crowley's eyes widened with panic. "W-what do you--there weren't any--you--what--"

"K," said Jenna, stepping back a bit so she could hold up her hand and tally her crucial points on her fingers. "First of all, supernatural hearing. Second of all, didn't even need it cuz you cuss so damn loud when you hurt yourself! I was worried you'd come out with missing thumbs or something! And third, why did you only ever do it when I was sleeping or reading quietly in my room? Why not when I was listening to music or something?"

Crowley stared at her for a few seconds, then blushed, fidgeted and scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I, um, I think I'll plead the 5th on this one." 

Jenna laughed, lifted onto her toes and kissed the tip of his nose, which both surprised and delighted him to no end. "Good choice, demon. Wow," she continued, turning back to and shaking her head in amazement at the unique desk. "This is amazing, thank you sooo much honey!"

"'t's nuthin,'" he replied nonchalantly but grinning very demonically. 

"Where did you learn to paint like this?"

"Leonardo."

"DiCaprio?"

Crowley snorted. "You know, da Vinci would have really enjoyed all jokes..."

"Ugh, you're so lucky you knew him," grumbled Jenna, admiring the right lower boards of her new escritoire. "What about woodworking, then?"

"Oh, that was, like, maybe 4,000 years ago," sighed the demon, pretending like he needed to think about it but internally relishing what was about to occur. 

"Really? Who taught you?"

"Jesus."

Jenna stared at Crowley for a full two minutes, without blinking or breathing (as a Celestern and not a demon or angel, she still needed oxygen but not nearly as often or as much), during which time he crossed his arms and did the same at her, though with a little smirk. 

"Jesus," she repeated, deadpan. 

"Yep. Nice kid. You remember he took after his dad, did carpentry for a bit?" he asked, smirk widening into a huge demonic grin. 

Jenna blinked. "You learned carpentry from Jesus Christ," she repeated, still quite deadpan. 

"I also showed him all the kingdoms of the world," added Crowley loftily, examining his nails casually and glancing sideways at her hopefully, "since, you know, his travel opportunities were _so_ limited--"

"Wait," Jenna interrupted, holding up a hand and frowning. She narrowed her eyes and thought carefully, then gasped loudly, glared up at Crowley and hissed accusingly, "That was _you_? _You're_ the demon who tempted Him in the desert, while he was just trying to fast and pray _alone_ for 40 days and nights?!"

Crowley, who had not seen this coming, opened his mouth a few times to answer and managed to stammer out a few unintelligible sounds before giving up and racing out of the room. Jenna hopped up in hot pursuit, though unbeknownst to her, the demon had already transformed into a tiny gardener snake and hid in the plant room, breathing heavily and hoping she'd cool down soon. 


	32. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is the end, followed by an Author's note that will introduce the sequel, "Ineffably Yours" and thank all of you more profusely for reading my story. Happy New Year, I love you all!

Jenna, Crowley and Aziraphale spent a magical Christmas and holiday season together in London. As Jenna was Evolved and safe from Bureaucratical retribution (at least for now), her quarantine period was now unnecessary and, at her request, the demon and angel showed her London's main tourist attractions. While the young Celestern preferred their commentary and anecdotes to the sites themselves, she still marveled at the splendiferous Crown Jewels in the infamous Tower of London; took numerous photos of Buckingham palace from all sorts of angles; and shamelessly admired the ancient gothic castles, cathedrals and other architectural masterpieces. 

Once Jenna had temporarily satiated her curiosity, the trio spent the remainder of December and much of January ice skating with Adam, Dog, Pepper, Brian and Wensleydale in Tadfield; drinking the angel's famous hot chocolate while discussing Dickens' _A Christmas Carol;_ watching classic holiday films like _Christmas in Connecticut_ (old and new) and _It's A Wondeful Life_ in theaters mysteriously empty except for the three of them; decking Aziraphale's bookshop and Crowley's flat with bows of holly, fake snow, tinsel, garland, multiple evergreen trees and other holiday decorations; and celebrating holidays that Jenna (who had grown up in a Lutheran household) knew little about, such as Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, Winter Solstice, Pancha Ganapati, Bodhi Day and Día de los Tres Reyes Magos (which, apparently, Aziraphale celebrated yearly and Crowley as well since their emancipation). 

Crowley and Jenna also did many activities as a couple, including long moonlit walks through a deserted St. James Park silenced by and blanketed with sparkling sheets of white and ice blue snow and curling up under warm blankets and watching _Rudolph, Frosty, The Grinch, Little Drummer Boy, Nester the Long-Eared Donkey, Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol_ and other holiday cartoon specials. Additionally, every morning the lovebirds would visit the park outside Jenna's window and make snow people (sometimes help the children surrounding them if so asked) followed by snow angels (and demons, and Celesterns). At some point, one of them would inevitably throw a perfectly sized snowball at the other, thus instigating an intense, to-the-death snowball fight that would somehow always end with Jenna and every human under 13 in the park pelting frozen ice at the cowering and laughing demon until he admitted defeat. 

After Christmas and New Years, Jenna and Crowley flew to San Diego, California, where they remained for two weeks during which Jenna prepared to move across the pond. She began by confessing to Melissa (who excitedly picked them up from the airport and took them to a secluded café for lunch) that she was not only never sick, but in fact a supernatural creature (specifically, a half-angel, half-demon Nephilim, known as a Celestern) dating another supernatural creature ("Just a demon," Crowley grinned in what he thought was a reassuring way while Melissa stared blankly at both of them) and friends with a third ("Zira's an angel." "Well, most of the time anyway--" "Crow! You're gonna give her the wrong idea!" "What, that he's a bastard sometimes? Cuz that's right on the money and you know it!" "Ugh!"). 

Initially, Melissa assumed it was all some weird, elaborate joke until Jenna took her behind the café and revealed her tremendous and quite stunning silvery gray wings in the abandoned parking lot. For good measure and to make a good first impression on his beloved's bestie, Crowley also vanished a huge scratch on Melissa's car. 

The flabbergasted woman's next reaction was to hyperventilate and loudly question her sanity until Jenna soothed her with her Healing powers (which sometimes worked on mental challenges as well) and pleasing aura. This helped Melissa (an enormous _Game of Thrones, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Lucifer_ and _Buffy_ fan) fully appreciate that, not only were angels, demons and other mystical beings real, but her best friend, whom she loved dearly, was now one of the coolest and most powerful (based on their description of her abilities, at least). 

Tears in her eyes, Melissa hugged the Celestern tightly, repeated fervently (and honestly, as Jenna's stomach validated) that she fully accepted and loved who and what Jenna was, and was so honored she'd shared this with her. Crowley left the soul sisters alone so they could cry and express their love for each other comfortably, but it wasn't long before Jenna's roommate ran out of the café and hugged Crowley just as hard, sobbing her thanks for being there for Jenna during such a challenging time, not to mention a kind, gentle, respectful, amazing boyfriend ("Jenna's words," she clarified, wiping her eyes and pointing a finger at him threateningly, "which had better be and stay true if you know what's good for you. I don't care if you're a demon or the Devil himself: if you hurt her, I will go full _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ on you and everything you love. Got it?" Crowley nodded fervently, eyes bulging out of his head in terror. When Jenna emerged from the café, she cried, "Leave him alone, Mel! You are _literally_ scaring the hell out of Crow, which is technically possible and I'm not 100% sure that won't destroy him so just--take a chill pill, you freak!")

Melissa was sad to hear Jenna was moving to London, but understood she needed a change. She helped her pack her books, clothes and other belongings from their tiny apartment and resign from the museum. Jenna's supervisor, a strong and kind female mentor for the young Celestern, was also upset to learn she was leaving, but given that Jenna was young, clever, creative and vastly talented in so many areas, she knew the recent college grad had to explore her options and travel the world, and said a heartfelt goodbye to her young trainee with no hard feelings. 

Unfortunately, it _would_ cause too much of a metaphysical disturbance to suddenly Transport Jenna's many and rather ponderous belongings halfway around the world (according to Aziraphale), so Crowley took care of flying everything across quickly and securely (money obviously being no object). At the end of their two week trip, on January 30, Jenna and Crowley boarded another international flight, though this one was taking both home. 

Like I said: I do not play dice with the universe. I play a unique game of my own device, in which everything makes sense eventually.

To Jenna and Crowley, everything makes sense. They have each other, they are safe, their friends and family are happy and well. Nothing matters but their love, which they intend to cultivate so that it flourishes into a veritable Garden of Eden during their immortal lives together. 

To several infuriated angels and demons, currently stripped of their powers and forced to live as mortals, nothing makes sense. Why in G-, S-, Somebody's name did Crowley fall in love with a random girl, after 6,000 years of barely acknowledging anything human-shaped except the angel? Why did that random girl have to be the daughter of two of the most notorious supernatural entities in history? Why did she have to Evolve into not just a Celestern, but a bad-ass, confident, protective and uber-powerful one with powers the angels and demons would give their bloody wings for? Why did the traitors somehow ruin everything YET AGAIN?!!! 

To everyone and everything else: somewhere in between.

All are right. All are valid. 

That's the point. 


	33. Author's Note

Dear fantastic readers,

Thank you for reading my story and going on this journey with me! This is the end of the first installment of my _Ineffable_ series, not sure how many parts it'll have but I'm at least doing a sequel, _I_ _neffably Yours._

Most of the sequel is unknown to me as of yet, but it will include Jenna's ever-strengthening relationship with Crowley as his girlfriend and roommate in London, as well as their friendship with Aziraphale; Jenna training with Vega to manage and master her Celesternal powers; other GO characters like Anathema & Newt, Adam Young, the Them, Dog; Hecate (from my other fic _What Fresh Hell is This_ );Jenna's family (Aunt Anne and Uncle Graeg, father, maybe others); and obviously some sort of conflict, though I'm not sure what yet....please comment on what you want to see from the next installment(s)!!

Oh, and a devilishly handsome, debonair and sensitive demonic boyfriend for Zira, since I stole Crowley for Jenna in my AU 😉😘

Thanks for your loyalty, kindness and encouragement. Happy New Year!!

Sincerely

Just_The_Messenger


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